


Nephilim

by SLunne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ageplay, Angels, Caretaking, Comfort, Cribs, Demon Blood Addiction, Diapers, Family Feels, Gen, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Infantalism, Infantilism, Nephilim, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-sexual, adults being treated like children, seriously so much hugging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:43:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLunne/pseuds/SLunne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPNKink Meme fill: The boys have hidden the fact that they were nephilim all their lives, but when an angel pulls Dean out of Hell, there's no hiding it. Instead of an instant smiting, Sam and Dean find themselves with a whole new extended family, and everyone wants to meet the newest little angels. </p><p>Prompt: "It turns out Dean and/or Sam are children of an angel. When the angels discover that the boys are actually nephilim they don't react the way Dean and Sam expect them to. Angels are extremely protective of their children and by angelic standards Sam and Dean are quite young, so the angels take to treating them like fledglings.</p><p>Despite Sam and/or Dean's protests there is lots of cuddling, and coddling, and generally treating them like children. For once the angels aren't trying to kill them, they become fiercely protective (maybe smiting anything that tries to hurt the boys.)</p><p>Up to the author what angels are involved, and how far the being treated like children aspect goes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean Winchester is Saved

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hatchling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375636) by [SailorChibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi). 



> This work is very much inspired by the amazing fic by SailorChibi called "Hatchling" and if you haven't read it yet...then I suggest you check it out, because its simply amazing.

[ ](http://aviator116.tumblr.com/post/157416084281/commission-for-sweet-maaahksheppard-3-luv-this)

(art by [aviator116](http://aviator116.tumblr.com/post/157416084281/commission-for-sweet-maaahksheppard-3-luv-this))

* * *

 

Mary had always known that her boys were part angel.

She whispered the secret to her little boy, telling Dean that he was special, her own angel. She read him the bible stories of Gabriel, and taught him everything she could find out about them.

 _“But it has to stay a secret!”_ she would always say. _“Just between you and me.”_

Dean would nod his head seriously, as if he truly understood the gravity of being a nephilim. When Sam was born, Dean looked at his new brother with shining eyes, and asked his mother if Sammy was part angel too?

A finger pressed against her lips, but they were drawn into a magnificent smile as she nodded secretly. Dean swelled with excitement and pressed a kiss against his brother’s cheek.

_I love you, baby angel.”_

* * *

 

Mary died without telling John that he’d fathered two nephilim. She died without telling him of their third parent, of the grace that filled and grew in their bodies because of a time when John had been possessed by an angel. A time that had left John without his memories, and enough residual grace to create something that was part earthly, part heavenly.

It was Missouri Mosely who told John about the Supernatural world. Demons and ghosts, werewolves and vampires, angels…

She told him that _Dean_ was part angel. _Sam_ too.

John didn’t know what that meant, or how it had happened. He was blinded and thrust into a brand new war. So he turned to the only place he could think of in learning about angels.

Pastor Jim Murphey was kind to a weary John and his hurting boys. He answered John’s questions about angels, hardly blinking an eye when the topic switched to nephilim.

John read the scriptures himself. Nephilim were considered abominations…forbidden and outlawed by the Host of Heaven. One text even suggested the mass genocide of the nephilim that had been born.

Terror filled John for the safety of his boys.

He knew that monsters were real…one had killed his wife. But angels were real too, and apparently they were a bigger danger to his sons than even demons were.

John sank to his knees in the back pew of a church and wept, feeling like the world was persecuting his family from all sides, leaving him with no where to turn. And Dean sat in Pastor Jim’s room, baby brother held tightly in his arms, whispering stories his mother had told him of the archangels.

* * *

His whole life, Dean was told to hide the fact that he was part angel. His father drilled into his four year old head that angels were to be feared, that they were the bad guys who would hurt him and Sammy if they were given the chance.

As he got older Dean’s fear grew, and was passed down to his baby brother. Dad didn’t hold details back from Dean very often. He was blunt and truthful, telling Dean what the scriptures depicted of angels and nephilim, and what he should expect if he ever came across one someday.

Sam found out when he was eight years old, and he asked Dean why he felt so different from the other kids in his class.

“S’because you _are_ different,” Dean told him plainly. “We both are. We’re part angel, Sammy. We’re human, and we got souls just like everyone else. But we also got somethin’ called _grace_. It’s just a little bit of it, but it means that we’re called nephilim instead of just human. An’ sometimes things might come after us ‘cause we have a different kind of energy in us.”

Sam’s face was full of wonder and confusion. “So…we’re not freaks? Are we Dean?”

“’Course not!” Dean scoffed, “There’s nothin’ wrong with being half angel. We just…have to be a little more careful s’all. Make sure we keep it a secret.”

Sam was contented with that answer, but not for long. As time passed, Sam asked more questions, not always ones that Dean knew the answer to. Dad would become agitated and easily angered if Sam asked him questions, afraid that even acknowledging his boy’s true nature would bring attention to them. But to Sam and Dean, it seemed as if Dad was angry because they were nephilim. Because they weren’t human.

His patience would slip, he’d shout down questions with a red face. He’d let his fear translate into anger in a desperate attempt to control the life he felt spinning out of his control.

“It means that everything in this world wants to kill you! Monsters, demons, hunters, angels! You boys aren’t _human_ , and it makes you a bigger target!”

Sam quickly learned to stop asking questions.

Instead, the two boys opted to ignore the part of them that wasn’t from either John or Mary Winchester, just as their father seemed to. They locked that hint of grace away, letting it out only to seek out each other, in the dead of night when John was hunting or passed out in the other bed.

On some nights, when tension was thick, when John had been particularly high strung and snappish, Sam would cry with his face buried into his brother’s shirt, and whisper, “W-we’re not freaks…are we?”

“’Course not,” Dean would always say, but deep down inside, he never believed it.

Dean knew what he’d been told by his father, and what he’d learned for himself. To the angels, he was an abomination. He and Sam were outlawed by the very word of God. The angels would kill them without hesitation if they were ever found. For all of his life, Dean feared the angels, for himself, but more importantly, for _Sam_.

Sam, who was good and innocent, Sam, who was smart and kind.

Sam, who would be slaughtered just for being born.

This fear was why, at the age of 29 years on earth, and an additional forty years in hell, when an angel calling itself Castiel stood not meters from him, Dean felt certain he was staring into the eyes of death not days after his resurrection. This fear was why he was so caught off guard when the angel cupped his face with warm hands, eyes seeming pained as it dragged it’s thumb across his cheek in a loving gesture.

“Oh Dean, you poor little thing…”


	2. Correcting Misconceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not normally one to share personal stuff, but I've been in a bit of a bad place recently, and the overwhelming about of support and kindness that I've received since posting this fic last week has been unbelievable. Thank you all so so much for reading and commenting and giving kudos, its meant more to me than you can imagine! 
> 
> Hope this chapter is okay, I suddenly feel a lot of pressure!

Dean felt his knees go weak, his heart beating a hundred miles a minute as he jerked away, trying to pull himself from the angel before him. But instead of falling backwards, the angel wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him towards its chest as his legs gave out, and slowly lowered them both to the floor of the barn.

Dean found himself draped across the angel’s lap, pulled in tight by its arms, and the ghostly sensation of feathers trailed across his skin, through the clothes on his back.  

A choked noise forced its way out of Dean’s throat. Smothered to death by an angel. At least Sammy wouldn’t have to see him bloodied up again.

“Hush, young one,” the angel’s deep voice rattled through the charged air. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. No harm will come to you now.”

“W-what?” the question came out before Dean could muster enough sense to recognize it as a bad idea.

The angel shifted, pulling Dean even closer, so that his back was to its chest, its legs pulling up around him in a cocoon of limbs and the shadow of wings.

“You don’t have to be afraid, little one,” Dean could feel the whisper against his ear. “You are safe. I am Castiel.”

“Yeah I figured.” Dean didn’t know what the hell was happening, but for some reason he wasn’t dead yet, despite being literally _cradled_ by a creature that wanted nothing but his destruction.

Confusion swirled through Dean’s mind. This wasn’t what he’d expected when Dad had told him about angels. He’d expected a torch of righteous energy, an unstoppable force of divine intervention. Now, not only was he standing (sitting) in the presence of a being that should be exterminating him like vermin, but this was the very creature that rescued him from hell. He wanted to know _why_ an angel would pull him out of hell. _Him_. An _abomination._

“You…you’re an angel,” Dean said, his throat feeling tight.

“I am,” Castiel answered, “and you are a nephilim.”

“If you know that, then why would you pull me out of hell?”

The angel shifted uncomfortably around Dean, its grip seeming to tighten on him. “I didn’t…we were unaware of your true nature. It wasn’t until I lay my sights on you for the first time that I saw you for what you are.”

Dean felt his fear spike. “So what…you’re here to throw me back?”

The angel’s wings, which were only visible in the dim shadows of the barn, rustled suddenly, and Dean could actually feel them drawing in around him. “No...no I would never hurt you, Dean, _never_ ,” Castiel sounded intense, and if Dean didn’t know any better, _horrified_.

But…that didn’t make any _sense_. “I thought that angels were supposed to hates nephilim, we’re freaks, outlawed by God’s word…” Dean wasn’t sure _why_ he was arguing the case for his eradication, but the words were spilling out of his mouth, like he couldn’t restrain himself.

“Oh Dean…” the angel brought its hand up to his face, trailing its fingers down his skingently, and despite the part of Dean that was waiting for the fingers to close around his throat, he couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the angel’s skin, the soothing touch that seemed to tingle.

“I’m afraid you have be exposed to false information,” the angel’s voice rumbled softly. “Nephilim are… _precious_ , to us. But for many years, the human race feared them, and the evil of the world sought out their power. We lost so many…the pain of it drove many of my brothers and sisters to death. The angels stopped creating nephilim to avoid so much destruction, but the humans’ texts reflect their biased views. Nephilim are not outlawed, but no angel has dared father them for fear of losing them. That’s why your existence, especially considering your brother is nephilim too, was such a surprise to us.”

“You know about Sam?” Dean asked hurriedly, but the angel began to hush him, trying to ease the tension in his body.

“Yes, Dean. When I pulled you from hell, I went to see if your brother was the same as you, and was surprised to find that two nephilim had escaped our notice.”

Castiel started to shift him again, and now Dean was fully aware that he was being _cuddled_ in someone’s lap, causing an embarrassed flush to rise to his cheeks. The awkwardness of the situation only intensified when Castiel moved Dean so that he was staring into the angel’s impossibly blue eyes.

“But I returned to heaven to tell the host of you boys, and hurried back to earth to find you again. If we had known of you, we would have never allowed you to go to hell in the first place, and for that, I am so sorry Dean.”

Dean didn’t quite know how to feel about an angel _apologizing_ to him. His whole world was still spinning precariously. It was one thing for angels to not despise his existence, but to have one rescue him?

Regardless, it would be a _lot_ more comfortable to have this conversation at more of a distance.

Dean slowly tried to remove himself from the angel’s grip, pausing only when its arms tightened slightly around his waist. But Castiel allowed Dean to slide onto the floor, pushing himself back to put some distance between them. Though judging by the reluctant look in its eye, Castiel wasn’t too thrilled at the separation.

“This is…” Dean fumbled for words to describe the jumble of thoughts running through his head. “…weird.”

Castiel’s eyes seemed to smile, even though its face remained somewhat stoic. “You need not worry, for now the host of heaven knows of you, we can protect you. You’ll never have to be alone again, Dean.”

And _that_ just sounded like a _huge_ something that Dean wasn’t honestly comfortable with. “Uh…what…what does that mean, exactly?”

“The host will accompany you from now on. You and Sam are the only two nephilim in existence, and all of heaven wants to see you protected.” Dean could tell that Castiel meant this to be comforting, but it only made Dean’s gut twist uncomfortably. “We will take you and your brother to a safe location where we can watch over you until you mature.”

“Whoa, wait!” Dean held up his hand, stopping Castiel. “You can’t just…just take us away like that! We have a place here!”

Castiel’s bewildered eyes narrowed. “You have a home already? You are being protected?”

Dean’s eyes flickered to the still figure of Bobby, still lying unconscious on the floor, and Castiel’s gaze followed his.

“This human protects you?”

“Bobby?” Dean asked, feeling more confused than ever. Why would he need someone to protect him at nearly thirty? “I mean…yeah, he’s always been there for me and Sammy, I guess. We crash at his place all the time.”

Castiel didn’t look convinced, but his eyes stared intensely at Dean. “Would you be upset if you were separated from him?”

Somehow, the question seemed a lot more important that Dean could really understand. “Uh…yes?”

“Very well then,” a grim look crossed over Castiel’s face, but he started to stand up off the ground. “I suppose there should be credit due to the fact that you have survived this long without heavenly intervention. It is, quite frankly, _miraculous_.”

Dean felt like he should be insulted, but Castiel was headed over towards Bobby, and Dean began scrambling up from the floor to hurry over to him. Castiel touched his fingers to Bobby’s head, and just like when he fell, he was suddenly awake, pushing himself up.

The old hunter’s eyes flickered from Dean to Castiel and back, and a look of panic flashed across his face as he gripped at Dean’s arm, pulling him away from the angel and putting himself in between Castiel and Dean.

Instead of angry, Castiel seem oddly pleased at Bobby’s reaction. “I entrust you with the care of Dean and Samuel Winchester, Robert Singer,” it said, voice firm and otherworldly, before it’s attention was drawn back to Dean. “I will return shortly, young one, but I must meet with my brothers.”

The angel actually smiled at Dean’s wide eyes before turning and walking towards the door of the barn. The sound of wings fluttering filled the air, and suddenly Castiel was gone.

Bobby’s grip on Dean’s arm didn’t loosen, his hand shaking slightly. “Was that…was that an _angel_?”

Dean could only nod.

Bobby looked at him in astonishment. “And he didn’t…you’re still…what in the world just happened?”

“Bobby…I got no freakin' clue.”


	3. A What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again...y'all are so kind. Thank you all for the nice comments and kudos! They really mean so much to me, I can't express my gratitude enough

By the time Dean finished retelling the encounter to Sam, the sun was starting to shine through the kitchen window’s at Bobby’s place, the night chased away, unnoticed by the three men.

“An _angel?_ An angel pulled you out of hell?” Sam said incredulously, his eyes wide.

Dean ran his hand over his face in agitation, shooting a glare at Bobby who’d remained unhelpfully silent through Dean’s admission to what they’d done behind Sam’s back. “Yeah…at least that’s what he said he was.”

Sam’s face was caught between annoyance at being left out, and amazement at what Dean was telling him. “It was a man then? How could you tell?”

“It looked like a dude,” Dean shrugged. “Human face, human body, the guy was dressed like a holy tax accountant. He would have looked like a normal person, but his eyes were just… _unreal_ , you know? And then there was the wings –”

“Wings!” Sam interrupted him again, and suddenly it was like they were kids again, Sam wide-eyed and bright with curiosity. Dean hadn’t seen such a light-hearted expression on Sam since before Jess had died, and it made his heart clench. “You mean he had actual wings? What did they look like?”

“I mean, I couldn’t actually see them,” Dean said, and a look of disappointment flickered across Sam’s face. “But they cast these huge shadows across the barn,” Dean added hastily. “And I could _feel_ them Sammy, I mean, _Jesus…”_

“What was it like? What did he say?”

Dean faltered. “He was…I don’t know Sammy, it was…really _weird._ I felt like I was missing something, like we weren’t on the same page.”

“Maybe that’s just because he’s an angel?” Sam said, his face turning contemplative.

“Maybe,” Dean tried to sound agreeing, but he still wasn’t sure. “It…he wasn’t what I’d expected, ya know? He knew right away that I was a nephilim, said that he’d found you and saw that you were nephilim too right after he pulled me from hell. Apparently no one knew what we were, guess Dad did a good job keeping us hidden.”

“John never told anyone,” Bobby spoke up for the first time since they’d come back from the barn. “Not even Jim. They only reason I knew was because he left you with me so much when he’d go out hunting. You boys always healed scrapped knee’s too damn fast to be natural, and when I asked him about, he made me swear to never bring it up again.”

Dean saw Sammy flinch, and inwardly cringed as well. They’d overheard that conversation between Bobby and John as kids. John had been half drunk, and hadn’t bothered keeping his voice down the more that Bobby had pushed. Dean had thought for sure that Bobby wouldn’t want to see them again, but to his surprise the older man never treated either Winchester boy any different than before. Dean had always suspected that Bobby knew that Sam and Dean had listened in on that conversation, but this was the first time that they were acknowledging it aloud. Even just between the brothers, neither had talked about being nephilim since they were much younger, before Sam had left junior high. Now to talk about it so casually…

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ that always worked out great.”

“What strikes me as odd is that every piece of lore out there suggests that angels weren’t too friendly to nephilim,” Bobby crosses his arms as he leans back against his kitchen counter.

“Yeah I know,” Dean said grimly. “And believe me, I’ve looked through all of the texts I could get my hands on.”

Bobby’s face fell into a frown. “Some of those texts span over at least a century. Its hard to believe that if angels really didn’t despise nephilim, there would be no information to back that up.”

“Maybe the texts were wrong,” Sam said, a long forgotten beer almost upended by his hand as he ran it through his hair. “I mean, an angel pulled Dean out of _hell_ , that’s got to mean something.”

“I’m just saying it seems a little fishy to me,” Bobby said, scowling slightly.

“What did he say to you?” Sam looked to Dean expectantly.

“Uh…Well, I mean I kinda had the same thought that Bobby did. I practically asked him why he wasn’t killing me,” Dean admitted sheepishly at the look on Sam’s face. “He said…he said that the texts were wrong, because they’d been written by humans. "He said that to angels, nephilim were…uh…” Dean felt his cheeks heat up under the eyes of his brother and surrogate father, “… _precious_ …his word not mine.”

Sam clearly wasn’t embarrassed by the sentiment like Dean was. His eyes only seemed to brighten, and damn, wouldn’t it be nice to be as trusting as Sammy. “Maybe…Maybe this is good thing,” Sam said eagerly. “I mean, for the first time, we might have someone on our side. 

“It is possible for the wrong information to be the most popular,” Bobby admitted hesitantly. “After all, the general consensus on vampires is that garlic is the number one enemy. Still…I think it’s probably best to use a little caution regarding the halo squad.”

Dean was about to agree, when he was cut off by the sound of three, sharp knocks coming from Bobby’s front door.


	4. Castiel and Uriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still floored by the response I've gotten! Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments! I'm afraid this is a total expositional chapter...I'm so sorry! I hope you all don't mind, and I hope you are having a wonderful week!

No one moved. Sam looked towards Dean, excitement replaced with nervousness.

“You’re not expecting anyone, are you Bobby?” Dean asked, unconsciously shifting so that he was in between Sam and the door.

“Not at five in the morning,” Bobby answered grimly.

The knocks started again, once more only three, but no other sound was made.

“Castiel said he would come back,” Dean said, making Bobby swear under his breath.

The older hunter pushed his way past Dean, grabbing the shotgun full of salt rounds before putting his hand on the door handle, calling out, “What do you want?”

“We are here to see Dean and Sam,” a deep voice called through the door. Sam shot Dean a questioning look, but Dean shook his head. He didn’t recognize that voice.

“And who’s we?”

“My brother and I,” a different voice this time, and this time, Dean knew who it was. “I am the angel Castiel, whom you met a few hours ago, Robert Singer. I’ve come with my brother, Uriel.”

Bobby looked back to Dean, who shrugged, not knowing what to do. Making up his mind, Bobby took the shotgun off the safety, and opened the door wide, pointing the barrel at the two men standing on his front porch.

Castiel stood slightly ahead of the other man, seemingly unperturbed by the gun pointing at his chest. “I understand that it is customary to knock and ask permission before entering a human’s home,” he said, his piercing gaze moving quickly past Bobby and locking onto Dean, a small smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hi,” Dean said back, and instantly felt like kicking himself for sounding so timid.

The angel, Uriel, was taller than Castiel, broad and intimidating. His face was sternly set, but the instant his gaze fell on Dean, his eyes brightened.

Dean, suddenly feeling an embarrassed sort of anxiousness fluttering in his gut, let his gaze drop to the ground, fighting the urge to shuffle like some nervous kid.

“May we come inside?” Castiel said when Bobby made no move to let them in.

Bobby’s eyes were narrowed on the two, but he stepped back slightly, so he was no longer blocking the doorway. “Wipe your feet on the mat.”

Bobby kept the shotgun ready to shoot as the angels entered the house, meeting Uriel’s intense stare as the tall man passed him.

Castiel didn’t hesitate as he walked towards Dean, who was frozen to the spot, a lifetime of fear instilled too deep to be erased after his first encounter with an angel.

He didn’t even have time to move as Castiel unexpectedly invaded his personal space, and wrapped his arms around the hunter in a hug. A freaking _hug_.

Some of the tension gave way to surprise as Dean found himself in an angel’s arms for the second time in less than 24 hours. Not sure what to do, he awkwardly raised a hand, patting Castiel on the back before the angel pulled away, holding Dean’s shoulders as he smiled again.

Uriel was waiting, and as Castiel stepped back, Dean saw the angel moving forwards, his arms outstretched. Sensing that he too was going in for a hug, Dean quickly stuck out his hand to intercept, his lips turning up in a nervous smile. So he didn’t feel like getting all huggy with a total stranger that could kill him with a thought…sue him.

Uriel looked at Dean’s offered hand, his head cocking slightly to the side. Suddenly, the angel grinned wide and seized Dean’s forearm, pulling him close and wrapping his arm around Dean’s shoulders, sending him stumbling forwards into Uriel’s tight embrace.

“Hello, nephilim,” Uriel’s deep voice seemed magnified from the way Dean’s ear was pressed against his chest. Uriel pulled back, holding Dean at arms length the way that Castiel had done, smile still firmly in place. “Your soul is bright as Castiel described.”

Dean knew his face was red by the heat he felt creeping up his neck. “Uh…thank you?” he said uncertainly, but Uriel didn’t seem to mind Dean’s hesitation.

Sam was still seated at the kitchen table, jaw hanging wide, amazement plastered plainly across his face as Castiel turned away from Dean and Uriel and moved towards him.

Mind snapping to attention, Sam hastily stood from his chair, knocking into the table slightly in his rush. “H-Hello,” Sam stuttered slightly, “I’m – ”

“Sam,” Castiel cut him off, his eyes staring into Sam’s with a sense of peace and power. “It is wonderful to meet you, Sam Winchester.”

Sam barely had time to blink before Castiel was hugging him the same way he had Dean. Caught off guard, it took Sam a moment to respond, a disbelieving laugh huffing from his lungs as he gingerly brought up his arms to return the hug. “You too,” Sam managed.

Sam looked towards the other angel, to see that Uriel hadn’t relinquished his hold on Dean, an arm slung over his brother’s shoulder. Dean seemed to be torn between staying completely still, and the urge to fling the angel’s arm from his body, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on Dean’s face.

“I never thought I would see two nephilim reach this age,” Uriel said to Castiel, the tone of awe evident in his voice. “This one’s grace has grown to almost the equivalent of his soul.”

There was a noticeable start from all three hunters in the room.

“You mean our grace is growing?” Sam said in surprise. “I mean…I knew we had a little…Dean always said…” his voice trailed off as he looked to Dean, but he seemed to be as shocked by the revelation as Sam was.

“Yes, the grace in nephilim grows over many decades,” Castiel explained. “The process is slow and gradual, but eventually your grace will be equal to that of a full angel.”

Bobby’s eyes, still hard and mistruful, flashed between the boys and the angels. “How come this was never mentioned in any of the texts on nephilim? I’m pretty sure that between the three of us, we’ve covered every piece of information about nephilim out there, and I’ve never heard of growing grace.”

Uriel’s grip on Dean’s shoulders tightened slightly, causing an anxious fluttering in Dean’s gut. “It is not a process that humans should be concerned with,” he said, his voice sounding harsh as he leveled the hunter with a glare, causing Bobby to raise his shotgun again.

“With the exception of the human caregivers,” Castiel said loudly, and it almost sounded as though he was chastising Bobby and Uriel for creating tension.

Uriel scoffed at Bobby, who didn’t put his shotgun down, but loosened his hold on Dean. Seizing the opportunity, Dean ducked away from the angel, and moved next to Sam. Uriel frowned slightly after Dean, who carefully didn’t meet the angel’s gaze, and Castiel looked to Bobby, raising his eyebrows a fraction, until the hunter reluctantly lowered the gun to the floor.

“The rearing of nephilim is a closely guarded processes among the angels,” Castiel said, and Dean couldn’t help but notice that the words were directed solely to Bobby, not to him and Sam. “It is only ever shared to the guardians responsible for raising them until their physical peak.”

“Why all the secrecy?” Dean interjected, almost immediately regretting it as the angels’ attention was directed back to him.

“Nephilim are strong in their own right,” Uriel spoke up again, his eyes trailing over Dean and Sam in shameless fascination. “They greatly surpass humans. However, nephilim have weaknesses that can be exploited by creatures of the old magics.”

“Nephilim are susceptible to attack from monsters, demons, and in some unfortunate cases, even humans,” Castiel picked up, “They are vulnerable until their grace is fully grown, and they become full angels.”

It took a moment for Castiel’s words to register. Sam and Dean looked dumbly at the two angels, their faces unconsciously mirroring each other’s.

_“What?”_

Castiel’s eyes shone with amusement at the two brothers. “It will take some time, but one day you both will become angels.”

Bobby’s jaw was slack, his eyes darting back and forth between Castiel and the boys he’d all but adopted.

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!” Dean’s shoulders had tensed, his body becoming tight. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Castiel’s head tilted to the side, considering the change in Dean’s body language. “Truthfully…I cannot say. No nephilim has ever reached that age. However, our Father intended the process to be gradual, your bodies will have time to change along with your corporeal manifestations, and my brothers and sisters will support and carry you through it all.”

Sam’s posture wasn’t tainted with fear like his brother’s. He seemed so small in the way he stood, despite his towering frame. His eyes were full of hope and curiosity, a combination that had been trampled away throughout the years. “Why do nephilim become angels? I mean, we’re part human, how does that work?”

“You are an inquisitive one, little nephilim,” Uriel said with a small laugh, causing Sam’s face to redden slightly. But his words weren’t unkind. “The reason why is hard to explain.”

“Our Father works in mysterious ways,” Castiel agreed. “But I suppose the reason is because angels were created long before the creatures of the earth.”

Uriel nodded his head, unfazed by the wide-eyed looks of the Winchesters. “God created the four archangels first, and then the rest of the host. We were created with our purpose, to love Him and to love one another. There was no need to create more angels once the garrisons were filled. But as Father continued to create, the prototype for sentient beings changed as well. He created life that could make more of itself without His intervention, species that were self-sustaining. But until the first great wars of heaven, there was no need for more angels. Our numbers were plenty, and we thrived in the large family we had in heaven.” The light in Uriel’s eyes faded suddenly, a dark, empty look crossing his features. “Everything changed when Lucifer fell.”

“We lost so many by defection to his plot, and many more in the battles that raged until Michael defeated Lucifer and locked him into a cage in hell,” Castiel said grimly. “The loss of our family was devastating. The loneliness that persisted in the wake of our fallen brothers plagued us, and we begged our Father to create more angels, to give us stability again. Father answered our prayers, but not in the way we expected. He created Nephilim.”

“But what does that _mean_?” Bobby said, and everything from his tone to his expression broadcasted his frustration. “We know that Sam and Dean have grace. But what is that gonna do to them? How’s it gonna change them? How’d they even get grace in the first place!”

Uriel scowled at Bobby, but Castiel didn’t give him time to answer, his voice patient. “Nephilim are created when an angel gives grace to a human. This normally happens through possession, when an angel takes a human vessel. When that human conceives a child, the child is imbedded with that grace, which grows until the wings are formed, and their physical bodies reach human maturity.”

“Does that mean that Mom was an angel?” Dean said, the words slipping out without permission, a childlike hope escaping, surprising even himself.

Castiel gave his small smile again, barely noticeable on his face, but his eyes were sad. “Though Mary Winchester was a remarkable human, she wasn’t an angel,” he said gently, but even so, Dean felt abashed and somewhat disappointed. “An angel doesn’t have to be possessing the human during a pregnancy, nor even at the time of conception. Once grace is left behind in a human, it will remain there until it is passed on to create a nephilim.”

“Besides, it was your father, John, who carried the grace in him until you boys were born. Mary never housed an angel.”

“You mean Dad got possessed?” Sam said incredulously. “But he never said anything! Why wouldn’t he tell us?”

“It’s likely that he didn’t remember,” Castiel said. "Ever since the host gave up attempts of creating nephilim, angels have not been allowed to walk the earth. The fact that you two were created suggests a rouge angel, or perhaps one that is assumed dead has been roaming the earth. The angel would likely have erased evidence of it's presence, especially considering your bloodline."  
  
"Bloodline?" Dean shook his head, his eyes narrowed. "What the hell does our blood have to do with anything?"  
  
Castiel and Uriel looked at each other, communicating silently. Castiel tilted his head, and Uriel gave a nod of acceptance, before turning very serious eyes towards Sam. "Didn't you ever wonder," he said, all traces of amusement gone from his voice, "why Azazel sought after you especially, Sam? Why he poisoned you with his blood? Why you were his favorite?"  
  
All the color drained from Sam's face. "No..." he said with a tight throat. "I just...thought that maybe he knew what I was?"  
  
"Hardly," Castiel said grimly. "While your status as nephilim unfortunately acts as an unconscious magnet to the supernatural, even Demons do not have the power to sense the true potential that lies within you and your brother."  
  
"Azazel sought you out because the union of Mary Campbell and John Winchester brought together the most powerful bloodline since the days of Adam and Eve," Uriel explained, and the demon's name tasted bitter in the air.  
  
"Had you boys been human, you would still have been very important in the eyes of heaven," Castiel paused, considering his words, "...under the right circumstances."  
  
Dean very much wanted to ask what circumstances that would have been, but Uriel didn't give him the chance.  
  
"But it is irrelevant now," he said, and there was an odd intensity in his voice, the agitation that had been building in him throughout the conversation lighting up his posture. "The angels have come to earth, and we _will_ stop it from occurring."  
  
"That still doesn't explain why that yellow eyed bastard went after my brother," Dean said angrily. "If he didn't know that we were nephilim, then why did it go for him at six months? Why did it kill his girlfriend and take him away? Why did it try to poison him?"

Sam still looked pale, but he didn't say anything as he stared at the linoleum floor. Dean's body was hunched and practically shaking, again taking a protective stance in front of Sam.  
  
Uriel's face was hard, and Castiel’s expression unreadable.

“Had you not been born nephilim, you would both be potential vessels to the four archangels.”

A distant memory sparked to life in Dean’s mind, sitting on a warm lap, curled around an extended belly, his mother’s soft voice whispering stories into his ear. “Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, and…” Dean’s voice trailed off, the silence of the room pressing down on them all.

“And Lucifer,” Castiel finished. “Azazel was attempting to prepare Sam to become the vessel for the Devil, and now Lilith leads the endeavor.”

“Castiel!” Uriel said sharply, his eyes wide and furious. “There was no need to –”

“They deserve to know about the forces that have manipulated them their entire lives,” Castiel said, his voice becoming dangerous as he met Uriel’s glare with his own.

“You will only cause them undue panic,” Uriel argued. “The garrisons will neutralize Lilith before she threatens either of them ever again.”

Castiel’s eyes seemed to flash. “They have already been exposed to the dangers of this world. To deny them the truth would be cruel.”

Uriel seemed to shrink back under Castiel, but his face was still defiant. He looked as if he were going to continue to protest. The sound of a soft voice stopped him short.

"I want to help," Sam spoke up, but there was something dark and haunted in his eyes. "If you're going after Lilith, tell me what to do. She killed my brother, I can help. I've been trying...ever since..." his words trailed off as his throat got tight. He shook his head, and opened his mouth to speak again, but Castiel cut him off.  
  
"Sam," he said firmly, "do not worry yourself. The entire host of heaven is after Lilith. We can and _will_ stop her. There is no need to put yourself into danger."  
  
"Let me help," Sam pleaded, "I can - "  
  
" _No,_ " Uriel growled, and it was the first time his voice sounded harsh towards either Winchester. "I will _not allow_ that _abomination_ anywhere near you, I will kill her before she gets that chance!"

Dean pushed himself completely between Sam and the rest of the room’s occupants at Uriel’s outburst, his hand clenched protectively in his little brother’s shirt. Bobby’s grip on his shotgun was tighter than ever, though he hadn’t raised it. He looked ready to spring forwards at any moment, regardless of what good it might do, his face ashen.

“Uriel!” Castiel’s voice was raised, and this time, Uriel physically backed down, his body seeming to deflate as he leaned back against the wall, casting his eyes downwards.

Castiel looked around at the three hunters, sighing in what could only be frustration. “It seems that our visit has caused more agitation than was intended,” he said, rather unnecessarily. “Perhaps we should leave and return to our hunt.”

Uriel’s shoulders were hunched, his brow furrowed as he too noticed the tension he’d caused in the two boys. His face melted into one of remorse. “Of course…Castiel.”

Uriel stood from his stooped position, and walked slowly to the brothers. Dean didn’t move or back away from his place in front of Sam, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.  

“Farewell for now, little nephilim,” he said wrapping his arms around Dean again before the older Winchester could begin to react. Releasing Dean, who’d begun to sputter out something that might have been a protest, Uriel turned to Sam. He gently griped Sam’s shoulder, staring sorrowfully into the wide eyes. “I am sorry to have frightened you,” he said in his deep voice. “It was not my intention. However, the thought of a demon anywhere near you…” Uriel raised his other hand, running his fingers through Sam’s long hair. He pulled Sam into a hug, cradling the back of his head as he surrounded Sam with his arms.

Sam’s face was flushed pink when Uriel moved away, unsure of how to respond. Uriel opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Castiel’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Goodbye Sam,” he said, sending a smile that looked like it was supposed to be reassuring. Castiel turned back to Dean, locking eyes with him. “Dean. We will not be far away. Should you need us, for anything, you need only pray.”

Dean shifted back and forth, feeling Castiel’s piercing gaze. “Yeah…yea sure,” he said awkwardly, but that seemed to be all the confirmation Castiel needed before he turned away.

“Take care, we will see you both again very soon.”

Suddenly the room was vacant of the two angels, three bewildered men standing alone in the room.

“Well…” Dean coughed. “That was all kinds of bizarre.”

Sam looked at Dean, but his eyes were distant. His thoughts were racing far away from Bobby’s kitchen. “What are we going to do about Lilith?”

Dean felt his stomach drop. “Man…I…I don’t know,” he sighed, stretching his arm back behind his head, rubbing his neck. “We need some time to figure this out. I mean, one minute I’m lookin’ at the bitch, and the next I’m six feet under. And there’s demons, and _angels_ , and a brother who’s been topside for four months without me.”

The lie felt bitter on his tongue, but Sam gave a sad little smile. “Yeah...you’re right.”

“We’ll work it out,” Dean nodded. “But I’m telling you, I need a little shut eye after today.”

“Yeah…I could use a walk,” Sam said, again in that same distracted way.

“You boys better be crashing here tonight,” Bobby said, and Dean noticed that the older man still hadn’t let go of his shotgun.

“Yeah Bobby, of course,” Sam agreed. “Thanks.”

Bobby nodded, grip finally loosening. “Them angels…they’re a…kinda touchy feely bunch,” Bobby said.

Both Sam and Dean tried unsuccessfully to play off the slight blush rising in their faces.

* * *

 

Away from Singer’s Salvage yard, the two angels stood, unfazed by the chill in the early morning air. Their attention was locked firmly on the house they had just vacated, eyes unseeing of anything else.

“Castiel…” Uriel broke the silence between them. “They are so _young_. Especially Sam.”

Castiel didn’t respond beyond sparing the taller man a quick glance.

Uriel huffed as he rolled his shoulders, still to unused to the confinement of an earthbound vessel. “How could he even consider chasing after a demon like Lilith?”

“To be fair, they both have had to rely on themselves all this time.”

“But we are here, now,” Uriel said, and his voice betrayed his anger. “We will protect them.” When Castiel remained silent again, Uriel lost the last of his restraint.

“I do not understand why we cannot just take them!” he nearly growled. “Their human parents both reside in heaven, there is no one on earth who can rightfully claim guardianship. Why are we leaving them with this man, who should have no involvement in their lives, instead of taking them to a place where they will be safe and properly cared for!”

“We do not have their trust,” Castiel said, causing a Uriel to scowl fiercely.

“We are stronger than any human! More fit to protect them than anyone else!”

“We are also the very thing they were taught to fear their entire lives,” he answered harshly.

Uriel stared at Castiel incredulously. “What?”

Castiel drew breath sharply through his vessel, forcing himself to feel the sharp sting of cool air. “The humans…their records of nephilim depict them as abominations. The information was false, but unfortunately, became the fact that John Winchester learned.”

Uriel looked outraged.

Castiel grimaced, feeling the fury rolling off of Uriel. “I believe,” he said tentatively, “that John did anything and everything to protect and shield his children, from the supernatural, to the legions of hell, to the garrisons of heaven, because he believed all to be a threat.”

“They believe we would bring harm to them?” Uriel said, more statement than question. “Then…what are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to correct this?”

“We show them that they can trust us,” Castiel said. “We show them our love. Then they will be comfortable relying on us, and we can take them to true safety.”

“But how long will that take?”

Castiel refused to meet Uriel’s face. “I…cannot say.”

Uriel huffed in frustration. “Dean will form his wings soon!”

“I know.”

“Then what else do we do!”

“Until we receive orders from a higher power,” Castiel pushed the chilled hands of his vessel into the pockets of the tan trench coat, “there is nothing else we can do.”

Uriel looked back towards the house, but soon his head dropped down, his jaw clenching.

“I was ready for the apocalypse,” Uriel said quietly. “I wanted it. And then, suddenly, these boys came from nowhere…” His head jerked downward, his face drawn tightly. “Castiel…if anything happens to them, I will surely fall into a darkness from which I cannot be redeemed.”

Castiel looked back intently at his brother. “We _will_ protect them, Uriel. We will not lose them.”

For a moment, neither angel moved. But slowly, Uriel nodded. He brought his head up again, squaring his shoulders. “Come, brother. Let’s find Lilith. We have an apocalypse to stop.”

With a flutter of wings, the yard was empty save for the hollowed shells of wrecked cars, and a demon slinking around the warded barrier.


	5. Dreams of Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry it took so long to get this out! I swear I've been writing, just...not in the order of the story. But I've chosen to take on Nephilim as a NaNoWriMo challenge, so hopefully I will be updated very frequently! Again...thank you so much for your support and kindness! It has encouraged me beyond belief, and with Jared's new AKF campaign launch today, I feel better than I have in a long while. So I hope this is an okay chapter! Thank you for your continued support!

Late morning found Dean alone in Bobby's living room, empty beer bottles scattered on the floor, and another clutched in his hand. The couch was sagging under his weight, the silence of the house making it impossible for Dean to distract himself from his thoughts.

His memories.

It was surreal...to be back here after all that time. After everything that'd happened. To be with Bobby and Sam, it was too good to be true. But it was easier when they were around. A constant reminder that he'd left the hellfire behind. But now Bobby was on a supply run, and Sam had been gone for hours, and Dean was just sitting, waiting desperately for the sounds of a car approaching, signaling the return of one or the other. 

Dean could still hear the screams, every time he tried to close his eyes, echoing in the silence of the scrapyard. Scream's he'd heard, screams he'd made, screams he'd caused. 

His grip on the bottle tightened suddenly and he surged to his feet, ready to throw it, smash it, break something like he'd been broken.

The sound of wings fluttering stopped Dean short.

"Fuck," Dean swore as Castiel appeared just in front of him, causing the bottle to slip from his grip, and the last of the beer to spill onto the carpet as the bottle clattered noisily, striking against the other empty ones beneath it.

"Hello, Dean," the angel said, frowning slightly. "I didn't mean to startle you. My apologies."

"It’s, uh, fine," Dean said, looking away from the intense eyes. He stooped down quickly, snatching the bottle from the carpet to hide the flustered look on his face.

Castiel looked all around the room, his brow furrowing. “Robert and Sam are not here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean tapped the bottle anxiously on the side of his leg. “They left a little while ago. Bobby needed to go out and get some supplies. Salt and food and…uh,” his eyes travelled vaguely towards the empty six packs littered around, “…beer.”

“And they left you here?” Castiel’s head tilted slightly, making him look less like the maelstrom that had burst into the barn, and more like a confused puppy.

“I guess, I mean, I kind of wanted to stay here, you know? I think we all needed some space, time to think,” the angel’s expression hadn’t changed, and Dean swallowed. “And I didn’t feel so great, so I decided to stay here and…and get some sleep.”

“You were not sleeping when I arrived,” Castiel took a small step forwards, and the decreased distance between them suddenly reminded Dean that he was _alone_ with an _angel_ , puppy dog eyes or not, and an unwanted nervousness seized up his body. “Dean, you look exhausted.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a long couple of days,” he managed to keep his voice fairly level, considering how shallow he kept his breathing. “So, why are you here?”

Unfortunately, or maybe _fortunately_ , Castiel seemed to pick up on Dean’s discomfort, because his voice became softer and he offered a small smile, though he did nothing to step out of Dean’s personal space. “I came to check on you and your brother. I felt that Uriel and I left rather hastily, and I wanted to see you.”

It was Dean’s turn to look confused. “Oh,” he said, trying his best not to make it sound like a question. Why the hell would an angel want to see him? “Well, sorry you went out of your way. I’m not sure when Sam will get back.”

Castiel looked slightly concerned at this, but not deterred. “It was no trouble coming here, I assure you, Dean. I’ll see Sam soon, I’m sure.” He stepped a little closer again, raising his arm, and Dean half expected the angel to hug him again, hell he’d hugged him in their past two meetings. But instead, Castiel’s hand came to rest against Dean’s forehead, making Dean start slightly. “Your body temperature is mostly normal, yet you are troubled.”

Dean ducked away from the hand, embarrassed, but backed with his legs against Bobby’s couch, the only place for him to go was down. So he sat back down on the old cushions, trying to make the move seem natural. “No…I mean, yeah, I’m fine,” he forced, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. “Just…like I said, a little tired.”

Castiel brought his hand awkwardly to his side, the concerned look on his face doubled in intensity. But Dean cut him off before the angel could speak.

“So how goes the search for Lilith? Anything yet?”

The blue eyes felt like lasers focused on him, but Castiel answered, “Nothing yet, but Uriel continues to look. How long have you been awake, Dean?”

“Not long,” Dean said, the lie slipping out before he’d even had to think about it. In truth, he hadn’t slept since he’d woken in the middle of the blown down forest, on top of the overturned earth that had been his grave. Well, besides the failed attempted shortly after Bobby had left that ended with flashbacks to Alistair. Hence the reason most of Bobby’s beer was now gone. But he didn’t need to tell that to an _angel_ of all things. “So why aren’t you out there too? Don’t the angels need your help?”

“Not at the present moment. Besides,” Castiel began to move to sit down next to Dean on the couch, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to shift away on principle. “My primary concern is you and your brother.”

Dean found he couldn’t respond. Once again, he felt totally caught off guard by Castiel. How exactly was he supposed to respond? He’d _never_ expected to hear something like that in his life, much less from an _angel_. And the sheer honesty in Castiel’s tone, the way his eyes didn’t flick away, he almost believed it.

“And for now,” Castiel was still going, and Dean suddenly felt the angel’s palms cradling his face. “I am concerned that you have not had adequate rest.”

Castiel was pulling Dean gently over, bringing the hunter’s head to lie across his lap. Dean grunted out a hazy protest as soon as he realized that the angel was maneuvering him, trying to sit up again, but Castiel didn’t relent. “Please relax, Dean, your body needs to rest. I will help you fall asleep, that’s good…just like that.”

Castiel’s voice was washing over him, and Dean suddenly found that the exhaustion he’d been pushing from the front of his mind could no longer be ignored. Something was pulling his legs up to lie on the couch, and he felt Castiel pull the empty beer bottle from his slack hand. Sleep was tugging his eyelids shut, and Castiel’s fingers were running through his hair. But there was something nagging at him, a residual sense that he shouldn’t be allowing this, no matter how safe it felt.

“Wait,” Dean said, making another half hearted attempt to sit up, “Sam’s coming back soon, I don’t…want him to…”

Dean couldn’t finish his thought, but miraculously, Castiel seemed to understand. “I will leave before Sam and Robert return, if you wish,” he said softly. “But I will stay until you fall asleep. Close your eyes, little one, let me help you. 

That reassurance was all he needed. Dean stopped fighting his own tired eyes, and sighed slightly as he relaxed against Castiel. And later, Dean would think he’d imagined it as he slipped slowly into unconsciousness, but he began to feel the slight push and pull of something warm against him, seeping into his body and coaxing out the part of him he’d locked away, a very long time ago.

* * *

 

When Dean woke, he could hear Bobby putting things away in the kitchen. He sat up gingery, looking down at the pillow that had been cushioning his head.

Dean felt a slight twinge of embarrassment as he remembered falling asleep on another grown man’s lap. But he couldn’t help the part of him that was immensely relieved. Castiel kept his promise.

Dean stood, cracking the muscles in his back satisfyingly as he made his way towards the kitchen. Glancing at the clock on the stove, he saw that he’d been asleep for a good five hours. “Where’s Sam?” he asked, noticing that the sasquatch wasn’t there.

“Still on his walk, I guess,” Bobby said gruffly, glancing over at Dean.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean he hasn’t come back yet? He’s been gone for hours!”

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Sam’s voice carried through the house.

“Hey,” Sam said, as he walked through the doorway, looking ruffled. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dean said, and much to his own surprise, he actually meant it. He felt a million times better after his sleep. His _hell-free_ sleep. Damn. He should remember to send Castiel a thank you card for whatever mojo he did. “Where’ve you been?”

“Out for a walk,” Sam said, going to the fridge and grabbing a beer just as Bobby set it inside.

Dean frowned as Bobby muttered an “idjit” under his breath. “It’s been hours, man,” Dean said, and Sam suddenly looked a little unsure.

“It was a long walk.”

Instantly, Dean was suspicious, but instead of asking more questions, he rolled his eyes in his typical big brother fashion. “Health geek,” he muttered, and Sam smirked slightly. “You missed Castiel,” he said casually.

That caught both Sam and Bobby’s attention. “When was this?” Bobby asked, looking none too happy.

“While you were getting supplies,” Dean said shrugging. “Said he wanted to come by to see me and Sam since he left so quick before.”

“Oh,” Sam said, his face falling slightly, suddenly looking conflicted. Dean actually felt a little bad.

“He seemed disappointed,” he added, not really sure why he wanted to talk up the angel for Sam, but feeling compelled to assure his little brother. “That you weren’t here, I mean. He promised he’d come back though.”

The uneasy look didn’t fade from Sam’s eyes, but he did look a little more hopeful. Surprisingly, Dean found himself looking forwards to seeing Castiel again as well.

And that really wasn’t a thought he wanted to examine any closer.

Bobby just grumbled something about his house not being a “train station for feather-head express,” but with a short laugh from Sam, the conversation switched to more familiar territory, and all lingering confusing feelings about angels were forgotten. For the moment.


	6. Zachariah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I should have placed this part after the second chapter? I'm only now reconsidering the oder. Oops? If you think this is confusing, please let me know!

The angel Zachariah was in charge of dealing with the apocalypse. As Michael’s right hand, Zachariah kept track of the movements on earth while Michael focused his attention on preparing for the fight against Lucifer. He’d been watching Azazel for years, ever since the maggot first began looking for the devil. And then, the demon found the gateway to the cage, and a plan began to form in order to prepare a vessel for Lucifer. But Heaven did not interfere.

The apocalypse was Father’s last plan, the only set of instructions the Host had to follow. When the demon’s plans to start the apocalypse early succeeded, Michael took it as a sign that this was God’s will, and it was with a sense off finality and resignation that Zachariah accepted the end. Because the apocalypse didn’t just mean the end of the millennia old war in heaven, it meant the end of _everything_. The seasons would halt, the waters would still. The sun would never rise in the east or set in the west. The earth would stop spinning on it’s axis, and halt in it’s continued orbit. New life would never be made. Creation would stop, and with it, everything would become stagnant…including heaven.

Their family would remain broken, forever.

When God created Nephilim, there had been hope. Hope for healing and growth, hope for a true family again. But the children of heaven were hunted, left too unprotected and too vulnerable to life on earth. The pain of losing a child, of losing a niece or nephew, was too great for some, and what they thought to be a blessing turned into a curse. Instead of growing, their numbers decreased, and the angels like Zachariah were left wondering what Father had been thinking, what the point of hope was if it was only going to be crushed.

The apocalypse drew ever closer. John Winchester sold his soul, yet his sacrifice wasn’t selfless, he was not the one destined to become Michael’s true vessel. But soon, a truly righteous soul was dragged into Hell. It was all Zachariah had been waiting for, the green light to finally act. He sent the strongest garrison to Hell, ready to rescue and prepare the Righteous Man for duty. And then…

Castiel came to him, still scarred and wounded from his battle in Hell, with the most unexpected news.

Dean Winchester was not _human_ , and neither was Sam. 

 _Nephilim_. Not only one, but _two_ of them. Existing right beneath their very noses.

According to Castiel, Sam was still very young, but with the wrongful time he’d spent in Hell, Dean’s grace had grown to almost the size of his soul. He couldn’t even be more than half a decade away from growing wings.

Somehow, by some _miracle_ , these two impossible boys lived and grew…a new chance of _family_.

Zachariah had been waiting for a sign, and by God, this must be it.

Michael was alerted immediately. Castiel was sent back down to collect the boys, to make contact and ensure their safety. No one knew who was responsible for creating Sam and Dean, but it did not truly matter. The apocalypse _could not_ be allowed, not now that things were finally looking up for heaven. There was an excited buzz throughout the garrisons, new angels, new children, new family.

There was a swarm, every angel gathered, waiting to see the little nephilim, hoping to win their favor.

Things were understandably chaotic when Castiel returned alone.

Only Michael was able to quiet the confusion. He took Castiel to speak to him alone, and when he addressed the garrisons again, the angels had new purpose.

“Lilith moves to free the Traitor from Hell. She must be stopped, for the sake of our family. Preserve _every_ seal. Move with haste! Find Lilith!”

The angels scattered, leaving only Castiel and Zachariah behind.

“Sir, what about the nephilim? Where are they?”

Michael turned his focus to Zachariah. “The nephilim are too young still to leave earth. Castiel will be charged with guarding them, and you must oversee their protection, Zachariah.”

Michael’s voice had always been law, but never had Zachariah felt so near to objecting to it.

“For now we must tread carefully. Dean was stricken from Castiel’s presence. They fear us. We must show them we are their family before they will trust us.”

Zachariah suddenly understood the delicacy of the situation. Earth was quickly becoming a battle ground. Lilith would be targeting Sam, trying to prepare him to be a vessel for the Morning Star, and Dean would be targeted for escaping from Hell. _Father_ _help him._

“I need you now more than ever, Zachariah,” Michael said as he departed.

Thoughts racing, Zachariah turned to Castiel, who remained in his human vessel. “They truly fear us, Castiel?”

Castiel’s only response was an agitated buffing of his wings.

“Very well then. You should return to them soon. Perhaps take someone with you, but only one for now. I fear overwhelming them too quickly.”

“Will Uriel do?”

“Yes, that’s perfect, he will need to find a vessel, as will I.”

Castiel nodded his human head, _how novel_ , and another thought occurred to Zachariah.

“They are still very human, aren’t they Castiel? Even Dean?”

“Yes.” Castiel said solemnly. 

“Then we must observe earth. How _do_ humans care for their young these days?”


	7. The Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is, I got around 35,000 words for this story written in November. But I did myself a disservice and wrote ahead..so I can't post all that I have yet. Between holidays, birthdays, and in between semesters, I got a ton written during December that I'm trying to organize so I can post! sorry for the super long delay :( But as soon as I can catch up to myself, the chapters should come a lot more frequently. I'm really excited to where this is all ending up :) thank you for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Takes place at the end of "Monster Movie"

It was supposed to be a simple hunt, a chance for Sam and Dean to get used to working together again. The case was bizarre, monster-movie style deaths during the Oktoberfest of Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. It was weird for sure, what with the elaborate sets in the “vampire’s” house, the full on Dracula with a cheesy accent, and of course the freaking lederhosen shorts. But overall the case wasn’t all that hard or dangerous.

Which was why the angels’ intervention was so unexpected.

The Dracula-shifter had Dean by the throat, a crazed look in his eyes. “And you, Harker! Now, you die!”

Dean was ready to pummel the shifter in the stomach, the monster’s grip was loose and his dramatic pauses left Dean plenty of time to escape and gain the upper hand.

But before Dean could act, there was an arm gripping him around his waist from behind, pulling him back, and a bright light was shinning as the shifter screamed in agony.

Caught by surprise, Dean could only stumble into the person who was holding him tightly, and watch as the silver blood-stained blade suddenly protruding from Dracula’s chest twisted viciously.

Dean watched, wide eyed as the blade was ripped out, and Dracula fell to his knees, leaving only a furious looking Uriel standing in his place.

Jamie screamed, crumpled on the floor where she’d been reaching for Sam’s dropped gun. Dean still had the feeling of falling in his gut, even though he was stationary against what felt like a brick wall.

“Dean!”

Dean heard the voice calling his name, but he was too focused on Uriel, who had turned, with all his righteous fury, to face the still unconscious Sam. Panic raced through him as he started to struggle, trying to get to Sam before the angel, but the arms holding him only gripped him tighter, forcing him further away.

“Sam!” He called uselessly, hoping that his brother would wake up. But Sam lay still as Uriel crouched over him, scooping up Sam and his gangling limbs.

A hand on his face forced Dean’s head around, and his vision was filled with worried blue eyes. “Dean, where is Robert?”

“Castiel?” Despite the fear for Sam bursting through every part of his body, Dean couldn’t ignore the calming effect the angel’s presence had on him. He felt the fight slowly creeping away, though the panic didn’t leave his body completely.

_“Robert_ , Dean, where is he?” Castiel pressed again, his voice urgent. “Why is he not with you?”

“Bobby…” Dean shook his head, glancing back towards the limp Sam. “I-I don’t know, he’s probably back in Sioux Falls –”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he was suddenly looking at the inside of Bobby’s living room, Dracula’s lair and Jamie vanishing completely.

The jump caused his stomach to leap into his throat, and he choked slightly on air as he fell against Castiel. “What the _hell_ – ”

“Why where you out unprotected,” Castiel demanded, still holding Dean firmly in unbendable arms. “Why did you leave without Bobby? What were you _thinking?_ ”

“What?” Dean had no idea what to think, and he couldn’t figure out why Castiel was looking at him so strangely.

“Dean, that shifter was trying to _kill you_.”

“No shit,” Dean bit back, the cold air from the open window chilling his bare legs, causing him to shiver. “That’s why we were _hunting it.”_

Now that the initial shock from the surprise appearance had faded, Dean was starting to feel pissed off. The incredulous look Castiel gave him didn’t help that feeling.

“You mean you sought that foul creature out?” Uriel spoke up. He was still cradling an unconscious Sam in his arms, and the image of Sam’s giant body curled up would almost have been funny if Uriel hadn’t looked so livid.

“Yes!” Dean wrenched himself from Castiel’s grip, stumbling forwards and twisting around. “And everything was fine until you two barged in like the crusaders!”

“ _Fine?”_ Uriel’s voice was dangerously low. “That shifter had you _by the throat._ ”

“The guy was a joke!” Dean argued back. “All I needed was a few more seconds! Besides, Jamie was going for the gun –”

_“Oh_ ,” Dean could have continued but Uriel’s temper seemed to be rising. “So now we must rely on a random human woman to keep you safe!”

“We don’t _need_ anyone to keep us safe!” Dean yelled, his face red from anger and embarrassment. “Me an’ Sammy have been doing this our whole damn lives! A stupid shape shifter doesn’t even hold a candle to some of the stuff we’ve gone up against!”

“ _ENOUGH_.”

Castiel’s voice cracked through the room like a gunshot, leaving only silence echoing in its wake. Uriel was rigid where he stood, his arms pulling Sam protectively into his chest, and Dean stared at Castiel with wide eyes, feeling ridiculous with his shorts and bruised pride.

Castiel’s eyes turned to meet Dean, who felt frozen in their icy grip. “Dean, why did you seek out danger tonight?”

Dean desperately fought the squirming feeling in his gut, determined not to cower in front of an angel. “Because there were people getting gutted and me and Sam needed an easy case to ease back into hunting together.”

Castiel’s frown deepened. “Why are you hunting?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused as he took a step forwards.

Dean unconsciously took a half step back as Castiel started to advance, though Uriel and Castiel both noticed immediately.

“Because its what we do,” Dean said, not even a waver in his voice to betray the thoughts running through his head. “It’s the family business, what our dad raised us to do. Its keeps our reflexes sharp, it keeps us moving, and it keeps us together.”

Dean’s throat started to close, and he shut his mouth quickly, still glaring back at Castiel, though he dared not do more.

Castiel looked intensely back at Dean, keeping his distance this time, but searching his face desperately. Dean could feel his fingers trembling, and he curled them into fists, shoulders tense. But he didn’t allow himself look away.

A light seemed to click behind Castiel’s eyes, and his face smoothed over into stone. “I see,” Castiel said.

“Castiel – ” Uriel began, his eyes dancing with fire, but a sharp look from Castiel had him closing his mouth, drawing Sam up closely against him.

Dean’s heart thumped loudly in his ears as Castiel turned back to face him. The angel’s face was neutral, but his eyes seemed soft, and almost sad. “Dean, would you allow Uriel and I to heal you and your brother’s injuries?”

Dean blinked in surprise. _What?_ “Injuries?”

“It would put Uriel and myself at ease to know that you boys were healed.”

“You d-don’t,” Dean stammered, glancing back to Uriel, who was giving Castiel an odd look. “I mean, we’re not…I…”

Castiel didn’t seem perturbed, and stood silently, unwilling to back down from this, and Dean could see the stubbornness the angel’s eyes.

“I’m fine, I don’t have any injuries.”

Castiel’s lips turned to a small frown. “That is untrue,” he said deeply. “You have bruises on your abdomen and limbs, along with small lacerations and a foreign drug in your body. Not to mention your head, which sustained a substantial blow.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but at the reminder, his head gave a painful throb, causing him to wince. _Dammit_.

“It will take only moments,” Castiel continued, and his voice was confident but calm, as if he was trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. “It will only make you feel better.”

Something shifted in Dean’s understanding. Castiel was _asking_ him. An _angel_ , who could easily do whatever it pleased. But instead of forcing him, Castiel was deferring to him, gaining Dean’s permission before doing anything to him or his brother. Dean had no doubt in his mind that at this moment, if he said no, Castiel would leave him and Sam alone.

The feeling was… _strange_.

There was no reason Castiel should want to help them, but there was also no reason for an angel to listen to his word. Dean racked his mind, trying to understand _why_ this seemed so important to Castiel, why he wouldn’t back down, but still waited for Dean’s permission.

And Dean just…didn’t get it.

But Sam had been sent flying through a wall, and Dean knew from experience how much that would hurt when he regained consciousness. And Castiel’s eyes were honest, and Dean felt his hesitation sliding rapidly away.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.”

The smallest smile lifted up the corners of Castiel’s mouth, and he said earnestly, “Thank you, Dean.”

Something warm blossomed in the bottom of Dean’s stomach, but he just shrugged, none too keen on acknowledging the angel’s thanks. “But - one condition,” Dean added as an afterthought. “You have to take me an’ Sammy back to Pennsylvania. My car’s there.”

Dean felt slightly embarrassed when Castiel’s head tilted in confusion. “Your car?”

Dean gave a jerky nod. “She’s my baby. I can’t just leave her someplace.”

An amused glint lit up the angel’s eyes once again. “Of course, Dean,” Castiel said seriously, and Dean felt a small burst of relief at his words.

Castiel gave confirming look to Uriel, who sunk straight down to the ground, holding Sam in his lap now as his eyes and hands began to glow a soft blue.

Dean shuffled in place as Castiel approached him slowly. “Would you sit?” Castiel asked him.

Dean looked back behind him at Bobby’s couch, trying hard not to remember falling asleep on Castiel’s lap. With a slightly frustrated, slightly relieved sigh, Dean sat himself down on the edge of the cushions, and looked back up at Castiel.

The angel got down onto his knees in front of where Dean sat, and with very deliberate movement, reached forwards with both of his hands, cupping Dean’s face in his palms.

Castiel’s hands were warm, and Dean could see the light coming from him even after he shut his eyes. But more importantly, he _felt_ it. A warmth rolled over Dean’s entire body, sudden but gentle. It washed into his head and his stomach, filling from the center of his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes. Dean only realized that his head had been constantly pounding when the feeling ceased, and in its place there was only calm and peacefulness.

“ _Breathe_ , Dean,” a voice prompted him, and Dean released the air he’d been holding in his lungs without thinking, his breath feeling strangely hot against his lips.

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, no ache or discomfort anywhere in his entire body. Castiel was eye level with him, still holding Dean’s face as his fingers stroked lightly against his skin. “ _Whoa_ ,” Dean said, noticing that he’d been leaning into the angel’s hands. “Thanks, Cas.”

The nickname slipped out before Dean even registered it, but despite the slight tilt to his head, Castiel only smiled. “You’re welcome, Dean.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Dean’s head snapped towards Sam.

Sam had woken abruptly, his hand flying up to grip at Uriel’s arm.

“Be still, young nephilim,” Uriel soothed Sam, who had gone rigid in the angel’s lap. “I have you, and you are safe.”

Sam just looked confused, and he twisted his head around frantically until his eyes landed on Dean. “What – where are we?”

“Sioux Falls,” Castiel answered Sam, placing his hand on Dean’s knee, a silent askance for Dean to stay where he was. And oddly, Dean felt no objection.

“But…” it took a few moments for Sam to orient himself, but his eyes soon looked more alert. “What about the case? What happened?”

Uriel, who seemed displeased that he was being ignored, picked Sam up slightly in his arms, shifting Sam more securely in his lap. “You are in no danger, little one. I disposed of the abomination, and you need not fear it ever again.”

Sam’s face flushed bright red as he was maneuvered like a wriggling toddler, and Dean suddenly couldn’t hold back the laughter at seeing his giant baby brother cuddled by Uriel. 

The epic bitch face thrown his way and the snicker Sam gave him when Uriel hugged Dean goodbye later was _completely_ worth it.

                                                                            

Art by IsM


	8. Going Forwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting close to some of the stuff that I wrote back in November! I'm very excited to start posting it :) Thanks for reading!

The road was always a great place to think for Dean. The Impala was a home base, control center. When he was behind his baby’s wheel, a part of his mind slipped into auto drive, eased by the familiar music blasting through the stereo and aided by the gentle rumble of the engine. It gave Dean a chance to think through things. Confusing things.

Confusing things like Castiel. And Sam.

_Ruby._

Dean had to fight to keep the scowl off his face, or he’d risk another fight with Sam.

Because for some unfathomable reason, Sam had kept in touch with Ruby, and even now, after he was back from hell and angels kept popping in for breakfast, Sam wanted to work with her, all in a supposed effort to stop Lilith.

Dean couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his gut.

He could understand Sam’s goal. Lilith was a big problem that needed to be dealt with, but something about working with a demon just screamed _bad bad BAD_ to Dean.

Call him paranoid, but the Winchester track record with demons wasn’t so hot. Or maybe, it was a little _too_ hot.

Besides, the angels were apparently handling it. Castiel was showing up frequently, at least once a day, and every time the angel appeared, Sam would ask him how the search was going.

The answer was always the same. _“My brothers and I are searching, you need not worry,”_ and each time Sam heard it, he seemed to get discouraged. But somehow, the conversation never stayed on demons long when Cas dropped in.

He’d often be sitting in whichever diner Sam and Dean were visiting for lunch, holding a table ready for them. It was sort of awkward at first, as Dean wasn’t really one for small talk. But Sam always opened up easily when the angel asked them questions about their plans or their current case. As a millennia old celestial being, Cas had a bit of knowledge stored under his belt. Though when Dean said as much, Castiel helpfully pointed out that he’d only acquired a belt the same day that they had met, and therefore had only owned a belt for a small time relative to his existence.

So yeah, the dude was funny. In a weird, clueless sort of way.

Sam lapped up every fact and story Castiel had to tell them, and when Sam was so relaxed and happy, it was hard for Dean not to feel that way himself. Dean found that he really liked Castiel, and Sam obviously did too.

So Dean didn’t get why Sam didn’t trust Castiel with Lilith, why he was _so obsessed_ with tracking her with Ruby.

When Dean had finally discovered Sam sneaking off to meet with her, they’d yelled all afternoon. Maybe a part of Dean understood where Sam was coming from. According to Sam, Ruby had saved his life when Dean had gone down under.

And yeah, that made Dean stop and listen. If that was true then he was, as much as it pained him to admit it… _grateful_. He knew that he’d left Sam unprotected when his deal came due. But he’d hoped that Sam’s salvation would come from Bobby, or Ellen and Jo. _Not_ a demon bitch whose motives were shady at best.

But, he had to admit. Beggars can’t be choosers. And if Ruby had truly kept Sam alive while he was gone, then Dean owed it to her to spare her life.

But he still didn’t trust her for a second. It was actually worrying, how intent Sam was on hunting Lilith with Ruby. He’d often be gone in the mornings when Dean woke, mumbling some excuse or another about grabbing coffee or raiding a vending machine.

Sam was lying. But about what, Dean didn’t have any clue. 

* * *

 

A few weeks went by with little to no sign of Lilith. The garrisons were quickly becoming impatient, as was Michael. But the hunt was not Zachariah’s main concern.

Of all the angels out searching for Lilith, Uriel wore his frustration plainest, and it was that frustration that was giving Zachariah a headache.

“We should be taking every precaution, no matter how extreme!” Uriel argued harshly.

“I agree,” Castiel said with a sharp glance to his brother. “But if we act too quickly, we may never gain their full trust, and the familial bonds will be broken forever.”

Zachariah said nothing for a moment, considering both Uriel and Castiel. “Do they still fear us?”

Uriel’s mouth snapped shut, his angry expression morphing into a grim one. But Castiel seemed to straighten. “Less. Less than when we first met. The fear is still there, but with each visit I pay them, each time I help them they become more accepting of me. They’ve started calling me ‘Cas,’” he paused at the blank looks Zachariah and Uriel gave him. “It’s a ‘nickname,’” Castiel explained, somewhat excitedly. “I’ve been doing research. Nicknames are a human form of endearment. Dean sometimes refers to Uriel as ‘Chuckles.’”

Zachariah raised his brow, but Uriel perked considerably, seeming pleased.

“So what do you suggest then, Castiel?” Zachariah said.

Castiel paused, thinking carefully. “I do not believe it would be wise to remove them at the present time,” he said tentatively. “Not unless they were in severe danger. They still are still so young, and while Dean’s grace is strong, he and Sam still have very human basic needs that must be met.”

“But could we provide for those needs, if necessary?” Zachariah interjected, and Castiel gave an answering nod.

“Mostly. However, they must learn to trust us in regards to their safety before such a bond can be formed.”

“They should not be hunting,” Uriel spoke loudly, determined that his opinion should be heard. “It is far too dangerous.”

“Contrarily, I believe that it is the only reason they have stayed alive thus far,” Castiel shot back, causing Uriel to blink in surprise.

“Explain, Castiel,” Zachariah commanded, ignoring the indignant look on Uriel’s vessel.

“John Winchester trained Sam and Dean throughout the duration of his life on earth,” Castiel began, though his wings twitched agitatedly behind him. “From the moment he learned of the supernatural, John moved them constantly, never staying in one place long enough for Sam and Dean to attract attention. By hunting things himself, John learned how to kill the creatures that would seek after a nephilim’s power, and ingrained a way of life into the boys that kept them hidden, even when they were separated from their father.”

“But that also meant that they had no safe home,” Uriel countered. “They were deprived of stability.”

“The situation wasn’t ideal,” Castiel conceded, “but they survived. They learned how to fight things bigger and stronger than themselves. What they lacked in shelter, they made up for with a strong bond between them, and enough skills to protect each other.”

“Until Dean was taken to hell!”

Castiel flinched at this, and Zachariah recognized that it was time for him to pass judgment. “That’s enough,” he held out his hand, silencing Uriel. “I believe Castiel is correct in his assessment. Now is not the time to upset the nephilim by changing their way of life. They are young. We must ease them into our family.”

Uriel seemed very displeased, but said nothing, even as Castiel’s vessel gave a sigh of relief.

“That being said,” Zachariah gave Castiel his full attention. “If it comes between their comfort and their safety, we must act in their best interest. Do you understand?”

Castiel nodded seriously. “I will do my best to acclimate the boys as quickly as possible. Already there has been enormous progress.”

“Perfect.” Zachariah glanced between the two angels, feeling more at ease. “You said that you were doing research, didn’t you Castiel?” When the seraph nodded again, Zachariah hummed to himself in thought. “We need to create a pocket dimension on earth. Something safe and well suited to Sam and Dean’s human needs. We can move the boys there once they are ready, so nothing can harm them during their transition.”

Zachariah snapped out of his musings, matching Castiel’s determined gaze with his own. “I’ll need your help, Castiel. Its time to begin preparations for a home.”


	9. Anna Milton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a choppy chapter, but.. 
> 
> Anyway, please check back to chapter 7, IsM put in some amazing fanart, that I'm so grateful for! They did a fantastic job :) I'm still freaking out over it!

After enough badgering from Sam, and one too many vague answers from Castiel, Dean finally agreed that something had to be done about Lilith. Not that Dean didn’t believe that the angels were looking, and not that he though he and Sam could do any better, but it didn’t feel right just stumbling around with their heads in the sand, hoping that she didn’t find them first.

Unfortunately, Sam’s way of hunting Lilith included Ruby, the black-eyed bitch wonder.

It went without saying, Dean still didn’t trust Ruby, especially since they were purposefully going behind the angels’ backs with her to find Lilith. It just felt too much like he was doing something _wrong_ , the kind of feeling he used to get when he was twelve and sneaking a beer out of the grocery bags, afraid that Dad would find out. But when Ruby came to them about a girl, someone who the demons were very keen on capturing alive, they just couldn’t ignore it.

They find Anna Milton in the attic of her father’s church.

“You’re Sam and Dean?” she said, her eyes going wide. “ _The_ Sam and Dean?”

“You know us?” Sam said, looking at her disbelievingly.

“Know you?” she said, and still she had that same gobsmacked expression, like her entire world had just been flipped on its head. “The angels won’t shut up about you…its just…” But now her face crumpled into a confused expression, her eyes darting back and forth between them.

Dean didn’t like that look. “What?” he said shortly.

“Oh! Nothing…” Anna stumbled over her words, suddenly blushing, “I just…from the way the angels talked about you, I thought you’d be younger.”

Dean felt a flash of irritation. “Well we ain’t exactly the Golden Girls.”

“No! I mean…obviously you’re not _old_ or anything,” Anna’s blush deepened. “I meant…a _lot_ younger. 

Dean scoffed as he looked at Sam who just shrugged back.

* * *

 

Dean didn’t think it was possible for Castiel to look so very angry.

“Boys, step away from her. _Now,_ ” Uriel commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. But Sam managed to make a place anyway.

“Why?” he said, his face scrunching into that confused puppy look that Dean always gave him so much crap for. The one that made him look all of six years old. “She’s been hearing angels speaking! I think she might be like us!”

“She’s not,” Castiel spoke, and his eyes were trained like daggers on Anna, who, for her part, didn’t cower under the intense glare.

“What could she possibly have done?” Dean asked, pushing Anna back into the room behind him where Ruby was hidden, keeping his protective stance in front of the doorway.

“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel said emotionlessly. “She has to die.”

A part of Dean seemed to shrivel up with those words. _This_ is exactly what he’d always feared angels to be, a cold, heartless force, condemning an innocent life without even flinching. “So what if she’s been wiretapping your angel chats or whatever, that’s no reason to gank her.”

“She is a traitor to heaven!” Uriel barked, and Dean could see the tip of a blade quivering slightly under his sleeve.

“She is a danger to you and Sam,” Castiel continued. “Even just her presence calls demons to you.”

“Like we’re not already on Hell’s big hit list!” Sam said, almost incredulously.

“Cas, please don’t do this,” Dean said quietly, and for a moment, the hostile look faded from the angel’s eyes, an almost pitying look replacing it. It wasn’t exactly comforting.

“Dean – ”

The rest of Castiel’s statement was cut off as a bright white light engulfed the room. Castiel and Uriel were suddenly gone, but the light still hadn’t faded. For a horrifying second, Dean saw the light glowing around him. It felt _excruciating_ , like a part of him was being _ripped out_.

It was over as quickly as it started, and Dean fell to his knees, biting back a moan.

“Oh my god, Dean! I’m so sorry! _Sam!_ ” Anna rushed out of the room towards Sam, who looked like he was about to teeter over as well.

“I think m’ gonna be sick,” Sam mumbled, and Dean shared the sentiment.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Anna said, and through the gently clearing haze, Dean noticed that her arm was dripping with blood. “I just wanted to get rid of the angels! It just…popped into my head, I don’t know…I-I forgot that you two were part angel.”

Her statement caused a jolt to run through Dean, and his eyes snapped over to Ruby. The demon’s eyes had gone exceptionally wide, and she was staring at Sam like she’d never seen him before. Her face twitched into one of disbelief, disgust, and then understanding. A kind of perverse joy lit up her eyes, and she seemed to forget she was with company as a smile stretched up the corners of her mouth.

Anna, who didn’t seem to realize the damage she’d done, was still fluttering around Sam, trying to keep him off the ground and glancing anxiously towards Dean, as though she couldn’t decide who needed more help.

“Did you kill them?” Dean asked, willing his voice not to shake.

“No,” Anna said, “I just sent them away. Far away.”

Despite everything that had just occured, Dean felt relief sweep through him. He didn’t want Cas dead. But still, he wouldn’t let Castiel and Uriel kill Anna, not when she hadn’t done anything wrong. And as frustrating as it was, he hated the feeling of being on the opposite side of the angels.

Then there was Ruby, who now knew the Winchester’s most guarded secret, and despite keeping Sam alive, Dean still didn’t trust her. But with Sam still believing that the sun shone out of her ass, there was nothing he could do about it.

“The angel’s will be back,” Ruby said. “We should move, like, yesterday.”

Sam just nodded, apparently not even realizing what Anna had unknowingly revealed, completely unconcerned that a demon knew that he was a nephilim.

Still ready to follow her at the drop of a pin.

God _dammit_. 

“We need to figure out what the angel’s beef is with you,” Sam said to Anna, and still looking shaken, she agreed.

* * *

 

“It’ll be okay, Anna,” Pamela tried to keep her voice calm. “One look, that’s all we need.”

“No…” Anna writhed on the cot in Bobby’s panic room, sweat beading on her forehead.

“What’s your dad’s name? Your real dad? Why is he angry with you?”

“No! No, no NO!” Anna’s voice was rising, the room was starting to tremble. Ruby who was looking through the doorway looked about two seconds from vanishing.

“Calm down,” Pamela tried, but Anna wasn’t responding.

“He’s gonna kill me!” she was screaming now, the lights in the panic room burst in a shower of sparks and a sound like thunder. “I can’t! It hurts too much! I have to try! I just want a family again!”

“Pamela!” Dean shouted.

“Anna, wake in one two three four five…” the shaking came to an abrupt stop. Pamela placed her hands on Anna’s shoulders. “Anna. Anna, are you all right?”

Anna’s face was pale, and her eyes opened slowly. “Yes, thank you Pamela. That helped a lot.” Anna sat up on the cot gently brushing away Pamela’s hands, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I remember now.”

“Remember what?” Sam said, and Anna looked up at him.

“Who I am.”

Tears were pooling in her eyes now as Anna stared at Sam, and Dean had a twisting feeling that he might know where this was going. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said, causing Anna to look at him with that same tearfully awed expression. “Who are you?”

“I’m an angel,” she said simply, and a lone tear escaped down her face.

Pamela and Ruby both jerked away, but Sam’s eyes widened in understanding. Dean swallowed thickly as Anna got to her feet and came to stand directly in front of where he sat. Her fingers hesitantly came up to touch his face, tracing over his brow and down his cheek. Her hand was warm as it came to rest, cupping his jaw gently. 

“God…” she whispered, and Dean wasn’t sure if it was an expletive or a prayer. “You’re _so_ beautiful.”


	10. Anna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in 4x10: Heaven and Hell

Sitting around awkwardly in Bobby's living room, Anna was still staring at Sam and Dean. Thankfully, her tears had stopped, but every now and then Dean would spot a few more forming.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said breathily, brushing at her eyes impatiently. “I just can’t believe that you boys exist.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know –” Dean cut himself off, clearing his throat nervously. “I mean, are you…the baby mama?”

Dean ignored the sharp look from Sam. Like they weren’t both thinking it.

Anna looked startled before giving a surprised laugh, but her eyes seemed sad. “No, I’m not your mother,” she said with a smile on her lips, and _jeez_ did that word send a bolt through Dean’s stomach. “I haven’t been on earth since…” he words trailed off as her eyes grew distant. “Since a very long time ago.”

“And what exactly did your angelic self do to piss off the God squad?” Pamela said, her voice cutting none to kindly.

Anna didn’t quite manage to hide her wince. “I disobeyed. I ripped out my grace, fell to earth, became human. I abandoned the garrison.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam said, his eyes flicking to Dean and back to Anna. “I don’t understand. Why would you do that? Why would you give up being an angel?”

Anna met Sam’s gaze with her own, a strange mix of sorrow and longing on her face. “Because the apocalypse was starting, the world was coming to an end, and I couldn't bear the thought of never becoming a mother again.”

Sam’s eyes widened visibly as Dean too made the connection. “You mean - ” Dean tried, but his throat felt suddenly thick.

Thankfully, Anna nodded so he didn’t have to continue. “When Father first created nephilim, I was one of the first to go to earth.” Anna twitched slightly into a wistful sort of smile. “Levi was such a strong little one. I loved him more than I knew myself capable of loving something. He was attacked when with his human mother and father, and by the time I realized he was in danger, it was far too late.”

“You couldn’t fix him?” Sam’s voice was timid, almost hesitant.

“No,” Anna said, the word breaking slightly. “He was already gone, his soul in heaven, his grace lost forever. I could still see him,” she said, but her expression only darkened. “I could be there with him, but my presence makes no true difference to him. He will forever remain in his happiest moment, in the garden where his family would sit. I watched him for centuries, and with each moment it killed me to see the potential that had been lost, to watch him knowing that I could never reach him, never give him guidance or knowledge. Never give him love.

“I wished will all my existence that I could give love to my child. That I could be a mother again. But I was afraid of leaving him, afraid of attempting to create another life for fear of feeling the same loss I had before. A part of me refused to give up, but I always imagined that I would have more _time_.”

Anna began crying again, very softly, but there was a sense of anger in her face. “Then suddenly I was _out_ of time. There was no more chance of creating a new nephilim. It takes so long for our children to reach maturity, but I _longed_ to have my child, to hold them and watch them grow. And I thought…I _knew_ that human children grew much faster. I thought that if fell, if I made myself human, I could become a mother before the end.” Anna let out a humorless laugh, “Though now its obvious that in my haste I severely miscalculated.”

“So that’s why you fell?” Ruby said bitingly. “You wanted to play house?”

All traces of warmth were gone from Anna’s eyes as she turned her gaze to Ruby. “Don’t presume to know the agony that I felt, demon. I lost my child. My nieces and nephews. My brothers and sisters. I couldn’t live eternally with that emptiness inside me.”

“But then why do the angels want you dead?” Dean interrupted. “If family is so important to you guys, then why would they try to kill you?”

Suddenly Anna looked ashamed, her posture ducking slightly in on herself. “Don’t blame them, Dean. If I were still an angel, I would think the same things that they do about me. The first loss we felt was when Lucifer rebelled, and so many of our siblings turned against us.”

“They think you fell like Lucifer,” Sam said in understanding, looking pale.

“Most likely, yes,” Anna said slowly, “I never told anyone I was leaving. I just…fell.”

“Well then, tell them otherwise,” Dean said angrily. “Its just a misunderstanding. They shouldn’t want you dead, and you shouldn’t have to die.”

“What I did was incredibly selfish,” Anna’s voice was soft. “I realize it now. I hardly spared a thought for Castiel and the others. I understand why they’re angry, and why they’re scared of me being with you. They’ll protect you boys at all costs, which they _should_ ,” Anna added hastily when Dean opened his mouth again. “It would be nearly impossible to get them to listen to me long enough to try and explain myself. They’ll be too concerned with ensuring your safety.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Sam looked towards Ruby, making Dean’s stomach dip slightly. Dean didn’t like that look. “We can’t just give up.”

Anna’s jaw clenched as she slowly straightened up, her eyes regaining some of her light, her face determined. “I’m going to find my grace.”

A dawning look flashed across Sam’s face. “Wait, you said you were falling? Like, literally?”

“Yes,” Anna said in a confused voice.

“Like the way a human eye could see? Like a comet maybe, or a meteor?”

* * *

 

Once she had a moment to really think, it actually made perfect sense to Ruby.

Sam had been an anomaly since she’d met him. Fiercely loyal and freakishly strong, even without a demon blood booster shot. Thinking back, almost everything about Sam could be explained by his heritage.

Having grace, even a minuscule amount, would explain why the blood never stayed in Sam’s system very long. At first, she’d just chalked it up to the kid’s metabolism. But the grace was probably purifying it as fast as Sam could drink it, though the addiction was still growing everyday.

Sam was so annoyingly tied to the rules and what he considered to be “morally right,” and he constantly looked towards someone else for reassurance when that moral code was pushed or in question. That person was always Dean, or that other old hunter who constantly smelled of oil and beer. It made sense, Dean was Sam’s older brother, and Bobby had been a second father to Sam. But when Dean was dead, and Sam was too distraught to pick up the numerous calls on his cell, Sam had become absolutely _frantic_. He’d held his own for a while, refusing her temptations with what he thought Dean would say. But quickly, with gentle nudges, Sam started looking towards _Ruby_ for validation.

He was like a little kid, so desperate to do the right thing and be accepted, but with no clue what to do with himself.

And Ruby was _more_ than glad to steer Sammy in the right direction.

It was almost laughable how easily Sam could be persuaded once she’d earned his trust. A few saves from tight situations, a friendly face in a world of strangers, a shoulder to cry on when it had all been just too much. Sam had become completely dependent on Ruby in the wake of Dean’s death, and surprisingly, her grip hadn’t weakened with the return of the car-obsessed asshole or those winged pinheads.

Though looking at Sam now, when Dean and Anna were out in the yard, Ruby could clearly see the role she had unknowingly taken up. She’d become Sam’s caregiver.

Sam lapped at the fresh cut in her wrist, his breath hot and noisy on her skin. Ruby ran her fingers of her free hand through his hair gently, and watched in fascination as Sam preened under the contact. With a satisfied smile, Ruby pressed her lips against the side of Sam’s head, whispering softly. 

“That’s it, baby. Drink up.”

* * *

 Dean shut his phone with a short huff, leaning back heavily against the frame of his baby.

“Did Pamela get home okay?” Anna asked, walking over to him.

“Yeah,” Dean dropped the cell into his pocket. “She said she was sorry. It’s just after last time, she, uh…this is just a little too rich for her blood.”

“I don’t blame her,” Anna said with a sigh, settling herself next to Dean against the car, looking up at the stars fighting to be seen against the lights of the nearby town.

Dean glanced over at her. “So, does this mean you’re my Aunt Anna now?” he said jokingly.

“Yes,” Anna said simply. She looked back down at him, and laughed at the look of plain shock on Dean’s face. “Heaven is a giant family, Dean. God is our father, the other angels are my brothers and sisters, and you and Sam are my nephews.”

“That’s…” Dean scrambled for words that he couldn’t quite find, “kinda trippy.”

Anna’s kind smile fell slightly. “It must feel strange to you, after living with only your brother for so long.”

“We had Dad,” Dean defended instantly, “and Bobby. Pastor Jim and Caleb. And I can still remember my mom, even though Sammy can’t.”

Anna hummed noncommittally. “Still, the angels are different than humans.”

“I guess you’d be the one to know,” Dean turned his head away from her, but he could feel her eyes heavily on him.

They stood in silence for a long moment, Anna’s gaze never leaving Dean. Anna was doing that intense stare thing that Castiel did. The thought of the other angel sent a jolt of…something though Dean, making him feel slightly sick. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wished that Cas was there to help them out.

And that thought itself was worrying. Had he really gotten so used to the angel’s presence? Why did he feel so torn up knowing that in this case, they were on opposite sides? Not that he thought this was wrong. Anna didn’t deserve death. Dean couldn’t honestly believe that Castiel would hate Anna if he only knew why she fell. It was just…he seemed so much more _understanding_ than that. Especially since he didn’t seem to hate Dean after what he’d done Hell –

Dean slammed down a mental wall. He couldn’t think about that. Not here in front of Anna. Not now in the middle of this huge shit storm.

“I have to tell you something,” Anna said, breaking Dean away from his thoughts, “and you’re not going to like it.”

Dean looked back at Anna warily. “Okay, what?”

Anna seemed to be stealing herself, and she took a deep breath. “About a week ago, I heard the angels talking. About you. About what happened when you were in Hell.”

Dean felt his blood run cold, air catching in his throat. He didn’t want to talk about this. He really really didn’t.

“Dean, I know. It wasn’t your fault,” Anna turned her body so that she was facing Dean fully. “You should forgive yourself, because you don’t deserve the pain you’re going through.”

“Anna,” Dean cut her off, his voice strained. “I don’t w-want to, uh…I don’t want to…I can’t talk about that. Please don’t.”

Dean looked away again, focusing down on his feet. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and when he didn’t flinch away, Anna must have taken that as an invitation.

Her arms were around him instantly, his head pressed against her shoulder. Leaning as he was, Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of being incredibly small in that moment. He didn’t bother to raise his arms, it was taking all of his focus to hold everything in.

Finally Anna started to let go of him, and strangely Dean found himself wanting her to hold on. Anna opened her mouth to speak again, but the door to Bobby’s house was opening, and Sam was stepping out, his breathing slightly hard, licking his lips nervously.

“Guys, I think we found it.” 

* * *

 They drove to Union, Kentucky.

It would have been fitting, the perfect place for an angel to be reunited to her grace.

But there was only a tree. Beautiful and strong. But empty.

Anna’s grace was gone


	11. How to Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this plot point turned out so much longer than I originally thought it would be! This still takes place in the middle of the episode "Heaven and Hell."

_special thanks to[sans__seraph ](http://sans--seraph.tumblr.com) (ao3 link [themothandthestars](http://archiveofourown.org/users/themothandthestars/works))  for helping me when I was stuck on this chapter!_

* * *

 

There was a sort of warmth wrapping around Dean, like a soft wind sweeping across his body. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. At first, it was the only thing he seemed to be able to focus on, his other senses feeling unusually dull. But the more he looked around, the more his surroundings seemed to form.

Water sloshed lazily against wood, the air carried the scent of fresh rain, and clouds formed from the blue that was quickly filling up empty space. He was at the end of a dock, a fishing pole held loosely in his hand, feeling lax and carefree.

 _“Dean_.”

The voice came from nowhere, and everywhere at once, but it didn’t startle him. In fact, that voice seemed so familiar, that Dean welcomed it easily.

He was no longer alone. There was someone in front of him, and Dean felt something deep within him reach out in joy.

“Cas?” Dean heard himself say, though he didn’t feel the movement of his lips.

It wasn’t exactly Castiel, and yet it was. He was brighter, warmer. It felt like there was something just behind the familiar dark haired, trench-coat-wearing exterior that Dean couldn’t quite see.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was low and full of worry. The lazy air suddenly seemed more charged. “Where are you? Are you harmed? Where is Sam?”

The concerned look on Castiel’s face made Dean want to squirm. “I’m right here,” he said confusedly. But something about Castiel’s words woke Dean up a little.

Cas was incredibly close to Dean, his hands gripping Dean’s arms gently but firmly. “Dean, this is very important. We can’t find you. You need to tell me where you and Sam are. Anna is _dangerous_.”

At the mention of Anna’s name, everything clicked into place. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Dean said distractedly, suddenly wishing he had room to back away from Castiel slightly.

“Yes,” Cas answered truthfully. “You and your brother are hidden from us, and we can’t sense either of you. This was the only way we could think to reach you. _Please_ , Dean, your lives are at stake.”

 _“No_ ,” the waters shook as Dean spoke desperately, with more than just his words. “She’s not. I promise, she’s not. Anna told us everything about why she fell. She told us about Levi.”

Castiel actually looked taken aback. “She spoke of Levi?”

Dean felt himself nodding, the waters growing even more turbulent underneath the dock. “She told us how she lost him, and how she wanted so bad to have a kid. Anna didn’t mean to abandon heaven, she was just hurting. Please don’t kill her, Cas. _Please_.”

He wasn’t sure why he was getting so upset. Maybe it was because Anna’s story reminded him so much of his own, only flipped. His and Sam’s entire lives had been defined by the loss of their mother, an emptiness that had never been filled. Throughout the changing motel rooms and new towns every other month, they had been the motherless children. But Anna had been the childless mother.

Dean felt Castiel gently take his face into his hands. An extra surge of heat, and the waters slowly began to settle. But Cas’ eyes still seemed uncertain.

“Even if that might be true, she could be trying to deceive you,” Castiel’s words caused Dean’s heart to freeze. “If she tries to harm you, I won’t be able to protect you unless you tell us where you are.”

“But if I tell you where we are, you’ll kill her,” Dean wanted to sound angry, but in this place, in his dream, he couldn’t hide the fear in his voice.

The waters were churning again more violently than before, the peaceful nature gone as the clouds thickened and darkened overhead. Castiel didn’t react to the changes in weather, and Dean found himself not caring about them. Castiel wasn’t denying Dean’s words, but his eyes looked so very old, and so very sad.

“I don’t wish for my sister’s death, Dean,” Castiel said softly, though Dean could hear him clearly over the sounds of the water. “But if she causes you or Sam any harm, I will protect you over her.”

“But she won’t hurt us. She didn’t leave heaven like Lucifer did. She thought she could be a mom on earth as a human before the apocalypse, but she wasn’t thinking right. She just left, and she’s really sorry, Cas. She just missed her kid. Please don’t kill her, she just made a mistake. You gave me a second chance, can’t you give her one too?”

Dean knew he was babbling. He couldn’t stop the words pouring from his mouth. But something about Castiel jerked at Dean’s last words, like two extra arms that seemed much too big.

Dean could no longer see the dock. His senses became strangely useless as he felt something so entirely _Castiel_ surround him completely, shadows and heat and _comfort._

The place where Dean’s arm bore the handprint scar burned, and the feeling spread as Dean felt Castiel hold him close. Dean could feel a deeply seeded part of him, the same part that he used to wrap around Sammy in the middle of the coldest nights, cling to the feeling.

“Please Cas? Isn’t she family?”

Just like the time when he first met Castiel, Dean could feel light brushes of feathers brushing along his back and neck. The soft stroking motion was calming, despite Dean’s agitation.

“Perhaps you are right, and all is not what it seems,” Castiel said gently, and his voice chimed in a strange, unearthly way. “I will go speak to Michael and tell him what you have said. If he allows it, and if I promise not to act against Anna until I know whether she is dangerous, will you tell me where you and Sam are?”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

There was a great shift as Castiel’s hold tightened and Dean’s entire vision was filled with intense blue eyes.

“I will never lie to you Dean.”

A great, shuddering breath left Dean, and he nodded.

* * *

Waiting with four people crammed inside a crappy motel room was infuriatingly tense.

Dean told the others of his dream the moment he woke, what Castiel had said and promised. Cas was going to return to heaven, seek out Michael, and would send word of a place to meet through the angel radio. Both Sam and Ruby seemed skeptical, what if it was at trick? What if Castiel was only placating Dean until he could get to Anna?

To everyone’s surprise, it was Anna who defended Castiel.

“He wouldn’t lie,” she said sharply. “Especially not to Sam or Dean.”

“Of course, we should just take your word for it” Ruby said sarcastically, “Because you’re the ‘know-all-see-all’ goody little angel, aren’t you?”

Anna shook her head in frustration. “I _know_ Castiel. I was his superior in heaven. He was one of my closest brothers, and he was so good with my son.”

“Even if you knew Castiel, its been years Anna. You fell over two decades ago,” Sam started arguing again. But different from Ruby, whose retorts were filled with anger, Sam’s agitation seemed rooted in concern. “There’s no telling how much he’s changed, or how he might react now. Especially in the middle of the apocalypse!”

Anna gave Sam a look that was both tender and exasperated. “Twenty years is not very long relative to our existence. My concern is not that I’ve been gone for so long, but rather that my fall was so recent.” A regretful look flashed across Anna as she brushed her hair impatiently back. “If Castiel and the others thought me dead, the pain will still be fresh, and my betrayal might sting that much more.”

“Yeah, the angels seem _so_ heartbroken that you ditched them,” Ruby snapped stepping forwards into Anna’s face. “In case you haven’t forgotten, sweetheart, you’re a fugitive. You rebelled! As far as we know, associating ourselves with you has made us _all_ enemies of heaven!”

“As if a filthy demon like you could ever be anything _but_ an enemy of heaven,” Anna said calmly, but her voice was filled with disgust.

“Oh great. So we can add racism to your stellar resume. I’ve been helping out the Winchesters, at the cost of _my personal safety_ , for a long ass time! _You’re_ the one who’s putting us all in danger!”

“I would _die_ before I allowed anything to hurt Dean or Sam!” Anna shouted back, her eyes flaming with irritation. “Don’t question my devotion to my family!

“Funny,” Ruby smirked cruelly. “Because the whole reason we’re in this mess is because you _walked out_ on your family.”

Anna looked as if she’d been slapped.

“Ruby!” Sam’s face was as shocked as Anna’s.

Ruby gave Anna one last sneer before she turned on heel, brushing out the motel door and grabbing Sam’s wrist to drag him with her. Sam threw an apologetic look over his shoulder at Anna as he let himself be lead away, but she didn’t even seem to register him leaving.

Dean could hear Sam’s raised voice, even as it grew more and more distant, but he kept his eyes carefully on Anna. There was an almost broken look on face, and her hands were trembling slightly at her sides.

“Anna,” Dean tried, not even sure what he should say, but Anna cut him off.

“She’s right,” Anna said softly, sinking slowly down onto the motel couch. “I did abandon my family.”

“No,” Dean said tightly, his chest feeling like it was constricting. “She’s got no idea what she’s talking about. Don’t listen to that bitch.”

Anna’s eyes drifted up to look at Dean again, and he was at least slightly relieved that there were no tears in her eyes. Her gaze was sad, but also calculating. _Worried_.

“You don’t like Ruby?”

Dean scoffed before he even had to think. “Of course not. She’s a demon, and I don’t trust her as far as I can _throw_ her, but…”

“But?” Anna added, and she seemed even more alert now. Dean shrugged, suddenly finding himself unsure. Going by her expression, Anna was clearly not satisfied with a nonverbal response. “Dean,” she said seriously, her voice turning to steel, and Dean felt his spine stiffen slightly at the commanding tone. “Why does Sam trust Ruby when you don’t?”

Dean fought not to fidget under Anna’s look. That tone of voice, that _look_ was the sort of look that demanded an answer _now_. “She helped him out…when I was in hell,” Dean said hesitantly. “Sam says she saved his life.”

“So Sam trusts Ruby,” Anna said, holding Dean’s gaze, making it impossible for him to look away. “But you don’t”

Dean shook his head, but at Anna’s raised eyebrows, he nearly jumped to answer again. “No. She and Sam are keeping something secret from me, and I don’t know what it is. They’re both obsessed with killing Lilith. I mean, I want the bitch dead too, but they’re taking it to a different level.”

Anna gave Dean a searching look, and he swallowed uncertainly under her scrutiny. But Anna seemed mollified enough with Dean’s answer, even though she grimaced slightly. She turned her head towards the sound of Ruby and Sam still unintelligibly arguing outside, looking deep in thought.

Dean gave a small huff of relief. It felt like he’d just been let up from the hot seat. Still, now that Anna’s eyes were not on him, her sadness seemed to creep back over her, pulling her lips into a small frown.

Dean felt himself wince slightly. He understood the importance of family. It had been the only thing worth anything when he was growing up. He’d even gone to Hell for it. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Anna, at odds with the ones she should be closest with.

Gingerly, Dean sat himself down on the motel bed, across from Anna’s chair.

“You said…you said Cas knew Levi?”

Anna’s eyes flickered and she smiled wistfully. “Yes. He was definitely the favorite uncle.”

Dean’s hand came up to absently scratch at his nose. It was so _weird_ hearing Anna talk about Cas in familial terms. Brother, uncle…Dean guessed that it should make perfect sense. Anna had obviously been very close to her family before her fall, and hadn’t Dean even told Castiel that Anna was family? That coveted word that for so long had only been reserved for Dad and Sam, and Bobby if you didn’t look at blood. And if the grace inside him and Sam really did come from some angelic parental doner, technically Cas was _his_ uncle too. _Aunt_ Anna, _Uncle_ Cas…

No. Nope, Dean couldn’t even process it. It just seemed too strange.

“But that’s a good thing. He’s gotta understand – I mean, he must know…” Dean scrambled to find the right words. “It should be easier for him to get why you fell.”

Anna glanced back over to Dean, considering him with a sweeping look. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, and she shook her head as she gave a short sigh. “I wish I hadn’t left without speaking to him. But I knew he would have stopped me. Castiel was always very protective.”

“So Cas never…I mean, he never had any kids?” Dean asked tentatively, afraid of what the answer might be.

“No, never,” Anna said a little sadly. “But he was very involved with those of us who had created nephilim. I often told him that he would make an excellent father”

Weirdly, and with an ache that Dean was _totally sure didn’t actually exist_ , Dean found himself agreeing.

And with her memories back, Dean could honestly see how Anna would fall easily into a sort of maternal role. Dean’s only measure of what a mother was came from the few memories he had of Mom. But even so, Anna appeared to meet all the requirements.

She had the warm vibes down. Anna had an precense about her that was gracious and soft, but there was an undeniable sense that she couldn’t be messed with or pushed around. Dean could easily picture Anna with a young boy, cutting off his sandwich crusts, tucking him in at night with a smile and a kiss, halting misbehavior and demanding obedience with only her voice –

…Wait.

Something clicked, and Dean twisted around to face Anna, plain indignation on his face.

“Did you just use your _mom-voice_ to get me to tell you about Ruby?” Dean said incredulously.

Some of the light returned to Anna’s eyes as she laughed and got up from her seat.

“I want to see those angel-proof hex bags that Ruby made.”


	12. Amendment

The call soon came, just like Castiel said it would.

Anna was told to meet Castiel and Uriel in an abandoned barn, with Dean and Sam with her, and that she would not be attacked or punished as long as neither nephilim was harmed.

Ruby decided not to accompany them. Sam seemed a bit worried that she was leaving, but Dean and Anna both whole-heartedly supported her departure.

Now there was just more _waiting_.

Dean had half expected for Castiel and Uriel to be waiting for them in the barn when they arrived, but they’d been there a total of five minutes, and already Dean was feeling anxious at the lack of angels bursting in. Dean pulled a small flask of whisky from the inside pocket of his jacket and tipped it back, willing his hands to stop shaking.

“A little early for that, isn’t it?”

Dean looked up to see Anna standing disapprovingly over him, her arms folded.

The urge to sheepishly hand the bottle over was almost overwhelming, but remembering their conversation back in the motel room, instead Dean clutched it protectively to his chest. “It’s two A.M. somewhere.”

Anna’s gaze was unimpressed, but she glanced between Dean and a nervously pacing Sam, her eyes becoming concerned. “Are you okay?”

_No_. Dean wanted to say. Fear and doubt were clawing him up inside. What if Sam and Ruby had been right, and Anna was about to be killed? What if Castiel went back on his word? How could Dean ever trust him again?

“Yeah,” Dean said instead, burying his insecurities with an easy smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Again, Anna gave him a look that said she knew he was holding back, but there was no time for her to make a response. The doors to the barn flew open, and Castiel strode purposefully inside, Uriel only slightly behind him.

Dean stood quickly and Sam stopped pacing. Anna’s posture stiffened as she turned to face her brothers.

Castiel looked disheveled, his eyes sharp as they connected firstly with Dean and then with Sam. There was a tiny, almost unperceivable flicker of relief in his features, so small and quick that Dean thought he’d imagined it. But Castiel didn’t stop moving forwards until he was right in front of Anna.

“Hello Anna,” Castiel said, and his voice was neutral. Flat.

“Hello Castiel,” Anna replied, but her words shook slightly. Not out of fear, Dean realized, but regret. “I’ve done you a great wrong, brother,” she said, and she drew a deep breath. “I realize that now, and I am sorry.”

For a moment Castiel said nothing, only continuing to stare into at Anna intently. But soon his impassive expression faded away, and a soft sort of sadness replaced it. “Its good to see you,” he said, and Anna relaxed slightly with his words. “You were greatly missed.”

“I missed you as well.” There was a smile on Anna’s face, and Dean could see it mirrored in Castiel’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have left the way that I did. I just…”

“You let your grief consume you,” Uriel stepped in, his tone slightly more sharp. But his face contained a shadow of forgiveness. “We understand, sister.”

Anna ducked her head, a bitter smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “I wish there was a way I could make it up to you.”

“Perhaps there is.” Uriel reached into the collar of his shirt, pulling of a chain from around his neck, a small glass vial filled with a glowing blue light swinging gently from it.

Anna’s eyes grew wide at the sight of it, her mouth falling open slightly. “But…where did you get…”

“We discovered it in our search for Lilith,” Castiel said, taking the glass vial from Uriel carefully. “It was how we knew you’d survived.”

Castiel held his palm open, offering it to Anna. “Please return to heaven,” he said softly. “You will not be punished. Dean was right. You are family, and family comes before all else.”

Slowly, Anna took back her grace, and with it, the forgiveness of her brothers. There were tears in her eyes as she uncorked the vial carefully. “Shut your eyes,” she said as the blue-white light swirled joyously into the air, and flew into her mouth.

Dean watched in fascination as Anna’s skin began to glow. The blue light was swelling steadily from her, growing more intense with each labored breath that Anna gave. She tossed her head backwards towards the sky, a scream tearing from her throat, and Dean threw up his arm to cover his face.

The light burst from Anna, sweeping into all corners of the barn. Dean felt the intense wave of heat and energy sweep through his bones, the sensation leaving him chilled once it disappeared.

In one moment to the next, Anna became an angel again, standing hunched over in the center of the barn. As she straightened, the air around her crackled with power, still raw and not fully contained. Her eyes flickered slowly open, and Dean realized that for the first time since he’d met her, Anna looked _whole_.

“Its good to have you back, sister,” Uriel said.

Anna raised her hand to her face, flexing her fingers in fascination, before looking up to meet Uriel’s gaze. “Its good to be back.”

“You need to return to heaven, Michael wishes to see you,” Castiel said, walking to Anna and placing a hand on her shoulder. “He has questions.”

Anna nodded, before turning back to Sam and Dean.

She smiled before reaching for them both at the same time, pulling them into a strong hug. Sam huffed out a laugh, returning the hug easily, and Dean, mostly filled with relief, wrapped his arm around her shoulder too. When she pulled back, Anna’s eyes sparked fiercely. “I’ll see you boys again soon. Take care of each other.”

“We will,” Sam said with a smile, but Dean only nodded.

Anna stood there a second longer, but in the blink of an eye, and with the sound of beating wings, she disappeared.

The knot of worry that had slowly been tightening in Dean throughout the entire exchange finally loosened, and he released a shaky breath. Dean turned to look at Sam, feeling his brother’s wide grin stretching across his own face. _They’d done it._

Sam’s smile slipped, a look of surprise replacing it, and Dean suddenly felt himself being hoisted into the air.

“Hey-!” Dean’s hands flew up to grip the arm circling around his torso, his fingers clenching at dirty beige material as a second arm pulled up his legs from under his knees.

Dean twisted his head around, looking up at Castiel. The angel’s face was firm, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he walked steadily towards the wooden crates lined against the barn walls, carrying Dean effortlessly.

“Cas! What the hell man?” Dean pushed back, pulling fruitlessly at Cas’ hold. Castiel ignored him, seemingly unfazed as he sat down on the boxes, setting Dean across his lap.

Mortified, Dean began struggling to get up, but with only one hand around his waist, Castiel was able to keep Dean seated as he pulled Dean’s chin around to face him. Dean tried twisting his head away with a grunt. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking you for maladies,” Castiel said, using his thumb to pull down the skin beneath Dean’s lower eyelid, peering sharply into his eyes.

Dean pushed at Cas’ hand, scowling fiercely. “I don’t need to be checked over! Let me up – ”

“Two days,” Castiel cut Dean off sharply. “I could not sense you or your brother. I could not find you. You could have been in danger, or injured, or _dead_ , and I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

Dean froze at Cas’ tone, guilt swamping him instantly. “I didn’t, we were just…”

Castiel sighed, his hand lingering on Dean’s cheek. “I know you were trying to do what you believed was right,” he said, softer. “But you have caused me great worry these past few days, little one.”

That squirming feeling was back in Dean’s stomach again, and he shifted in the angel’s lap, folding his arms and drawing in on himself. Dean nearly jumped when he felt lips press against his forehead as Castiel placed a kiss there. “So now, you will let Uriel and myself examine you and your brother to ensure that you are both safe and healthy. _End_ of discussion.”

There was a half formed protest on Dean’s lips, but it died away at Castiel’s tone. Feeling heat burning in his cheeks, Dean looked away. He couldn’t really think of a good argument, though not for lack of trying, even as Castiel gently tugged Dean’s arm free. Cas’ grace began to glow from his fingertips as he ran them down the length of Dean’s limb, from his shoulder to his wrist, and carefully over each knuckle. The grace swept into him the way it had the first time he’d been healed by angel mojo. Though there were no real injuries to be fixed, the now familiar warmth filled every crevasse of his body, radiating from the points Cas was touching, soothing away even the stress of the past few days.

Looking over, he caught sight of Sam fidgeting in Uriel’s lap, undergoing the same treatment that Castiel was giving him. Steady hands over the skin, Sam’s face was flushed bright pink, and Dean knew that he must not look any better.

Castiel reached for Dean’s other arm, beginning the same process over again, making Dean huff. He slumped a little in Cas’ arms, unknowingly leaning back against his captor’s torso even as he rolled his eyes.

_Angels_.

* * *

So an angel returned to heaven.

Michael hadn’t quite known what to think of Dean’s plea for Anna’s forgiveness. But looking at the seraph standing before him, her vessel’s posture rigid and crackling with grace, he found himself grateful. Especially at the news she gave him concerning the nephilim.

“There is a demon following Sam and Dean.”

There was a flash and a rumble, shaking the walls of heaven around them. “How do you know this?”

“She was there when the boys hid me. Dean does not trust her, but she has some sort of hold on Sam. I’m afraid she is trying to manipulate them, acting trustworthy before she can betray them.”

Michael took a moment to digest the angel’s words, filling slowly with rage. A _demon_ acting close to the nephilim? “How has she not been noticed before now?”

“The use of magic. The demon’s name is Ruby, she was a witch in life, and created hex bags that shield her presence even from the eyes of heaven.”

This...would _not do._

Michael’s outer wings snapped, calling forwards Zachariah. He was there in an instant, sporting his new vessel of a tall man, with thinning hair. “Yes sir?”

“Expand your searches,” Michael instructed starkly, “Look for the demon witch Ruby, and discover her motives for fraternizing with the nephilim.”

Zachariah’s grace flashed with agitation.

“I know how to find her,” Anna spoke up again, her wings, still damaged from her fall quivering slightly.

“You said she was hiding herself with hex bags?”

Anna reached into her vessel’s pants pocket, pulling out a few crushed items, a smile stretching across her face. “I tampered with them before she left us. She thinks herself hidden, but she is no longer safe from angels.” 

Michael looked intently at the angel who had once been a mother, one of the few that had survived the loss.

Yes.

He was _very_ glad to have this angel back.


	13. Milligan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the longer wait this time, and thank you all so much for all your kudos, comments, and support! I have a quick request to ask of you though, if you guys don't mind! 
> 
> Can I ask you to not send me messages that just tell me to update? For me, those kind of comments really demotivate me to write, for whatever reason! I'm really flattered and grateful that there's people who want more of this story, and I really want to give more! But those kinds of comments just.. make me feel icky, for a lack of a better way to say it. It makes this feel more like an obligation than something fun. I realize I've never expressed this here before, so please don't worry or feel bad if you've sent that to me before! But in the future, I would reaaally appreciate it if I didn't get those kinds of comments anymore! 
> 
> Thank you guys so so much! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
> 
> (Ps. there is ONE more chapter until the actual ageplay starts.. so sorry it took so long to get there! I didn't realize I'd planned so much to happen before I got to it! But it's almost here, I promise!)

The plan was changing. The rules were different now, and it was it was time to act.

 _Nephilim_.

Ruby still couldn’t believe it. Lilith had needed some convincing to even consider it. But she sure as hell didn’t waste any time giving Ruby new orders.

Ruby was to go and bring Sam to Lilith.

Sam Winchester wasn’t human, so it raised the question, could he still be a vessel for her master? He was supposed to be The Vessel. Sam had to be the one to open the cage. But…perhaps this was _why_ Sam was The Vessel. Having a body already used to grace, even the tiny amount that Sam had hidden so well, could only make the body _stronger_ for their father. That part of the plan would still work. Ruby was sure of it.

The problem now, was that Ruby hadn’t been counting on the angels being so protective of Sam. They were supposed to only care about Dean, _The Righteous Man_ , and drive Sam deeper into her grip with jealousy. Instead, they were treating both Winchesters like precious little darlings. Not to mention the protection streak a mile wide.

So Ruby needed to take Sam, _immediately_. And if possible, slit Dean’s throat in the process.

One nephilim was more than enough to deal with.

Ruby knew she’d be able to get Sam to do what she wanted. He was so wrapped up in her, all she’d have to do would be to withhold her blood for a few days, and Sam would be willing, practically begging to do _anything_ for a taste.

Ruby walked down an empty alley, pulling out her phone to dial Sam’s number, when something, _two_ somethings stepped into the mouth of the alley.

Ruby froze at the sight of the angels standing before her. The stupid red head Sam had so desperately wanted to save, and tall, dark, and lock-jawed himself. “Well, look at you,” Ruby schooled her voice. “Little Anna’s got her grace back. Congratulations on the promotion to the dick squad.”

The angels said nothing, but Ruby saw the flash as angel blades appeared in both their hands.

Ruby took a step back. “What? You’re going to kill me now? After I stuck my neck out for you? As if I didn’t already have enough enemies as it was, now even Alistair is actively hunting me down! What do you think Sam’s going to say when he finds out you killed me in cold blood?”

“What is your reasoning for associating with Sam?” Anna said calmly, but her blade was still raised.

Ruby felt a brief pang of hope. She just might get out of this. “He’s interesting. Too dedicated to the straight and narrow for my tastes, but hey, I want Lilith dead as much as he does. And the way he stood up against Azazel, I think he’s got a real shot at taking the bitch out – ”

“You stink of Lilith,” the tall one said, and if Ruby had been alive, her heart would have stopped beating.

“You’ve been meeting with her, haven’t you?” Anna’s voice was dangerous, and there was fire in her eyes.

Ruby turned fast, about to flee when she found herself at the tip of a third angel’s blade. This one was tall too, and the smarmy sneer on his face terrified her. “I won’t have you harming the children,” he said, his voice sounding all too businesslike.

That was all the warning Ruby got before the silver knife was plunged through her throat. Dying, for the second time, felt a lot like it had when she was human. Pain and fear and fire and _oh shit…_

Zachariah wrenched his blade free, his head following the fall of the empty body to the ground. Pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket, he wiped away the demon’s blood, looking up at the other two.

“Uriel, Anna, search the area. Lilith may still be nearby.”

They were gone in an instant, and Zachariah sighed as he put his cleaned blade away, dropping the bloodied cloth onto the body.

One less thing to worry about.

Now, he had to see to whatever disturbance Castiel had discovered. 

* * *

 

Castiel appearing in the dead of night no longer surprised Dean, now that he’d allowed himself to be much more in touch with his angelic side. In his half sleepy daze, he felt Castiel's approaching grace before the angel stood by his bed, offering a low and quiet, "Hello, Dean."

"Cas? Dean said, wiping a bit of sleep from his eyes. "What's up, man?"

Dean was much too tired to fully decipher the sort of soft look that the Angel gave him. "I came to inform you that your brother is safe, and that no harm has been done to him."

Dean sat bolt upright, twisting head around to look at the other bed, all tiredness gone. But Sam was there, right where he should be, snoring softly into the pillow he held firmly in his arms. 

Dean gave Castiel a confused look. “What are you talking about, Cas? Sammy's been here all night."

"I wasn't talking about Sam," Castiel said, his voice still soft in consideration for the sleeping Winchester. "I was referring to your half brother, Adam Milligan. 

Even though Dean hadn't been surprised before, he sure as hell was now. 

* * *

 

Even if Castiel hadn't said so himself, Dean would have known that Adam wasn’t like them, just by looking at him. He was very clearly _human_.

The kid was sitting nervously across from Dean in Kate Milligan's living room, most likely now regretting taking the seat across from Dean. He knew he was staring at his... at Adam, glaring, probably. But Dean couldn't find it in himself to care. 

Adam was so obviously _not_ a nephilim. There was no familiar hum of grace beneath his skin that Dean associated with the angels, and to a much smaller scale, to Sam. This kid was just human. Normal. 

Dean felt his throat close. 

"So, how old are you, Adam?" Sam asked, his fingers tapping anxiously again his leg, trying desperately to dispel the awkwardness in the air. 

"Uh, 19. I’m in college now," the kid answered, and Dean felt the knife twist just a bit deeper in his gut. 

"It's really nice to meet you boys," Kate said, her voice a mixture of forced politeness and insecurity. "I never knew that John had other children."

"Where is he, anyway?" Adam cut in, sounding a bit braver than he had since Sam and Dean had knock on their front door. "It's been ages since I saw him last."

"He's dead."

Dean hadn't meant to say it so harshly, and judging by reactions he got, it came out sounding pretty damn blunt. 

Sam shot Dean a look of anger and shock, Kate's hands flew up to her mouth as tears started welling up in her eyes. Adam's gaze lost its focus.  

"I'm so sorry," Sam tried, but the damage was already done. "We didn't know about you two either, or we would have tried to contact you much sooner." 

Adam still hadn't made eye contact with anyone. Dean could read the emotions flashing across his face like a comic book. Raw shock, fear, sadness, and then, just a hint of anger.

It was too much for Dean. 

He stood suddenly, ignoring the way that Sam called after him, and stormed out of the house to the Impala. 

He knew that Sam would be pissed that Dean left him to deal with the Milligan's, but he didn't give a fuck. He couldn't stand sitting in that house, evidence of Dad's perfect, normal life all around, frozen in happy picture frames. 

Dad’s normal life with a woman with blonde hair, like their mother, and a son he took to baseball games.

Dad's perfect life without any mention of his freak sons.

Castiel appeared in the passenger’s seat, but Dean didn’t bother looking at him. His hands gripped the steering wheel, itching to turn the ignition and just take off, but instead he let his head thump down onto the wheel, closing his eyes.

“If Dad’s the one who had the grace, why isn’t Adam like us?”

Dean felt Cas shift his gaze towards the house, the weight of his stare lifting off Dean’s shoulders. “It takes an extraordinary amount of grace to create one nephilim, much less two. Under normal circumstances, John would have needed to be possessed more than once to father two nephilim. Even though everything about your and Sam’s existence has been miraculous, John was only possessed once, and one possession couldn’t possibly be enough to receive grace for a third nephilim.”

Dean squeezed his eyes harder against the burning behind his lids. “Well. I’m sure Dad was fucking thrilled to have at least one normal kid.”

Castiel didn’t say anything. Dean didn’t _want_ him to say anything. He felt a fire burning in his chest, anger at the man he looked up to his entire life, the man he never felt good enough for.

The silence in the car was heavy, and it felt sickening. Dean finally pulled his head up to look back at the Milligan’s front door, impatience fueling his anger. “You know, its worse because he’s gone. He’s not even here for me to get mad at. I can’t even…” Dean swallowed, shaking his head.

There was a hand on his knee. Cas’. It felt hot through his pants, the same electric touch Dean expected from the angel. And then Dean’s vision shifted.

_He was staring up at Dad, scratchy hospital sheets feeling stiff beneath him. Something was different. Not wrong, exactly. Because it was definitely Dad standing there, all fight gone from his posture, battered and bruised all to hell. But Dean had never seen that exact look on his father’s face before, and it tugged on his heart frantically._

_“Dean, I’m sorry.”_

_What? This wasn’t right. Dad wasn’t supposed to be sorry. John Winchester didn’t apologize to anyone._

_“…I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn’t complain, not once.”_

_He’d had to. That was his job. Look out for Sam, look out for Dad. What else was he supposed to do? He’d had to take care of them. They were his family._

_“I just want you to know that I am so proud of you.”_

_Proud? Of Dean? John Winchester, never satisfied, always pushing, never explaining, just orders, no questions asked. Actually proud?_

Dean was back in the car, his hands gripped the steering wheel so tight, he could hear the material creaking, Castiel’s touch burning.

“What was that?”

Dean knew his voice was shaking, and Castiel looked blurry. But the angel’s hand and his voice were steady. “It was a memory, I thought you might ought to see.”

Dean blinked, and he felt an unexpected drop roll down his cheek.

“You’ll be able to see him again, one day.” That made Dean start enough to look at Castiel. “One day soon. Once your grace has grown a bit more, you’ll be able to travel in heaven. You’ll be able to see both your mother and father, if that’s what you wish.”

Dean’s eyes flicked across the angel’s face, searching for a lie, but didn’t find it.

The Milligan’s door began to open, and Dean’s eyes flicked up to see Sam walking out alone, looking frustrated and upset.

Dean hastily wiped away the moisture from his face.

In a blink Castiel was in the back seat instead of the passenger’s, just as Sam reached the car. Sam was gearing up for a fight as he got in, Dean could see it in his eyes, but Sam seemed shocked to see Cas, who didn’t give Sam the chance to speak.

“Dean take us north. There’s a motel that will be a sufficient shelter for the night.”

Sam shot Dean a look, but Dean didn’t have it in him to argue. With Sam, or Cas. Starting the car, he threw the Impala into gear, and took off through the neighborhood, faster than was probably safe on a resident street, but he didn’t care. Dean wanted to be away from the Milligans and this house _yesterday._  

* * *

 

It was one of the more plain rooms that they’d come across over the years, but definitely one of the cleanest. Dean absently wondered if Cas was responsible for that as he tossed his bags on the bed nearest the door.

It was uncomfortably quiet as Castiel began to trace the frame of the door with his fingers, and Dean could feel Sam’s glare traveling between him and Cas as he pulled his night clothes roughly from his own bag.

Dean ignored Sam, watching Cas as he crouched down, slowly reaching the bottom of the door. He finally straightened, and he stared rather intensely at the door handle before firmly twisting the lock, and sliding the guard chain for good measure. “You boys stay here,” he said, glancing at them both. “I’ll return with food shortly.”

Castiel left, not bothering with the bolted door, and Sam started on Dean.

“Dean, how could you be such a dick?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Sam,” Dean pushed his way past Sam towards the bathroom, but Sam wouldn’t have it.

“No!” Sam blocked Dean, grabbing his shoulder. “You were an ass and you know it! They had no idea about anything, Kate only knew about hunting because she was the one to patch Dad up in the hospital after the first ghoul. They had no clue about anything else, and you went and made a hard situation even worse for them.”

“Just drop it,” Dean tried to rip away from his brother, but Sam fisted his hand into Dean's shirt, looking even angrier.

“Boys that’s _enough_.”

Sam and Dean jumped apart at the sound of Cas’ voice. The angel stood carrying two bags of takeout and a stern look on his face that made Dean’s stomach twist with guilt that he couldn’t make sense of.

“That was fast,” Dean said, as if he and Sam weren’t just at each other’s throats, and Sam stuck his hands into his pockets and shuffled slightly where he stood.

Cas’ face softened, and he walked towards them, holding out a bag to each of them. “You’ve both had a very long day. You need to eat and get some rest.”

Sam took the bag from Castiel and gave a quiet thanks. Dean just grunted as he took his, causing Sam to shoot him another annoyed look, but he didn’t say anything.

Castiel stayed with them as they ate, and gently handed them both their clothes to sleep in once they’d finished. Sam went into the bathroom to change (and Dean noticed that he had his cell clutched in his hand), but Dean shucked off his pants in the middle of the room, pulling on the softer pants over his boxers and switching his shirts quickly.

Turning back to the bed to stuff his clothes into his duffle, Dean caught Castiel staring at him thoughtfully as he sat down on Sam’s bed, leaning back against the headboard. Suddenly Dean felt embarrassed, his posture stiffening. “What?” he said irritably.

Castiel didn’t seem put off by Dean’s tone, and the angel sighed before gesturing at Dean to come nearer.

Dean found himself moving forwards without really thinking about it, walking around the side of the bed until he was standing next to Cas. With a fluid motion, Castiel wrapped his hand around Dean’s wrist, and pulled him down until Dean was sitting on the bed next to him.

“Hey!” Dean protested, but Castiel kept pulling Dean until he was pressed up against the angel’s side. “Lay off, man,” Dean pushed against Cas as he tried to sit up again, but Castiel’s grace was racing through his fingers, and he held Dean firm.

“You are exhausted, and upset, and you have every right to be. Just relax, please Dean. Let me help you.”

Dean stilled, his ear pressed against Castiel’s chest, and his heart thumping. He felt Cas’ grip around become more relaxed, but it didn’t loosen as grace continued to pour from Cas and along Dean’s skin. Dean’s throat felt thick, and he squeezed his eyes shut, even as he allowed the rest of his body to relax. Castiel’s hand began to travel, running from Dean’s shoulder to his elbow in a motion that was ridiculously soothing. Dean actually felt himself falling asleep, when the sound of the bathroom door caused his eyes to shoot open.

Sam was stopped in the doorway, looking plainly shocked at Dean and Cas, lying on the bed together. Dean’s whole body went ridged, and he tried to sit up, but Cas’s hand on his arm kept him down.

“Sam,” Castiel said, his voice light as he held out his free hand.

Sam clearly blushed, looking very unsure as he dropped his gaze to the ground and began to shuffle forwards. When he reached the bed, Castiel took Sam’s hand and gently tugged him down, wrapping his arm around him so that Sam mirrored Dean on Cas’ other side.

For a long moment, they sat there like that in silence. Castiel began stroking Dean’s arm again, but it took Dean a lot longer to relax this time. But just like before, the repetitive motion and the warmth of Castiel’s body and grace soon had Dean drifting off again.

Dean barely felt the blanket that settled over him as the lights dimmed into darkness.

There was only warmth and the sounds of Sam’s gentle snoring as he finally nodded off.


	14. Enough is Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter draws plot and dialogue from the episode 4x18 "The Monster at the End of this Book."

After that night, Castiel almost never seemed to be far away.

He was there in the mornings, sitting in whichever diner Sam and Dean chose for breakfast, their preferred orders already sitting at the table. Sometimes he’d bring it straight to their rooms. He’d often tag along in the backseat of the car, sitting silently or offering suggestions over the newest case.

He appeared every night in their motel room, sometimes accompanied by a tight lipped Uriel, healing every minor scratch and bruise, and always by pulling a protesting Winchester into his lap.

He’d often stay through the night, despite Dean’s complaints that it was creepy, and sit between the boys’ beds, soothing away night terrors and haunting memories with a single touch.

Seeing Castiel nearly constantly was weird at first, but Dean couldn’t deny, it gave him the strangest sense of security. He genuinely liked having Cas around. But Sam seemed to have opposite feelings regarding the angels.

Maybe he needed some space, Dean didn’t really know, but Sam was _cranky_. Ever since the Milligans, his temper would get set off at the littlest things. Dean’s dirty socks, the music playing too loud and giving him a headache, and apparently, the fact that Ruby wasn’t answering her phone.

Dean only knew because Sam had become completely attached to his own phone lately. He was constantly flipping it open, checking his empty messages and hovering over Ruby’s contact name, seeming more and more frustrated by the day. Sam even went as far as to ask Dean whether or not he’d heard from Ruby, and Dean was glad that he could honestly say no.

Of course, that didn’t help the tension that was clearly building between them.

It was actually worrying. Sam had _never_ been like this, so fidgety and agitated all the time. Dean had half a mind to tell Castiel, though he wasn’t really sure _why_ , but Sam was never short with the angels, and it felt too much like… _tattling_ , or something.

So Dean was stuck in an odd place.

He was just taking the days as they came, watching out for Sam as best as he could, letting himself lean more and more on Castiel with each push from the angel. How could he not? Cas was always there, always offering an ear to listen or a comforting touch, his eyes always asking Dean to give into him so earnestly.

And Dean liked it. Yes, dammit, he liked being able to depend on someone like Castiel. When things got to be too much, when Dean was worrying about Sam or exhausted from the memories of Alastair haunting him in every idle moment, he wanted Cas. Even if it meant dealing with mushy hugs and tender touches.

It was weird, and it wasn’t. 

Then one day, during one of those rare periods where Castiel was busy with the angels, when Sam and Dean were on a minor lead that probably wasn’t even a case, the boys were accused of LARPing a lesser known book series by the elusive Carver Edlund. A book series called _Supernatural._

* * *

 

Chuck Shurley wasn’t what Dean was expecting. Small and squirrely, he was clearly carrying a few day’s worth of dirt, and apparently he was the prime forecaster for the Winchester channel.

He also didn’t want to believe that Sam and Dean were real and standing in his living room.

“Is this some kind of ‘Misery’ thing? Oh it is, isn’t it? It’s a ‘Misery’ thing!”

“This is not a ‘Misery’ thing, believe me we’re not fans,” Dean said, glaring.

Sam stepped forwards into Chuck’s face, his voice almost growling. “I’m Sam, and that’s Dean.”

Chuck looked on the verge of convulsions. “Sam and Dean are fictional characters. I made them up! They’re not real!”

Sam advanced again, and Chuck started to step back. “How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? What we are? Or Lilith breaking the seals?”

“Wait a minute, how do you know all that? Did Paul put you up to this? He did, didn’t he!”

Dean could feel himself glaring. “Chuck just stop. I’m Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam.”

All color left Chuck’s face, and he stumbled into the wall. “I never told anyone that name, I never even wrote that down!” His eyes grew almost comically wide. “You…you’re really them. Aren’t you? You’re really Sam and Dean.”

“That’s what we’ve been saying,” Sam snapped, but Dean placed a hand in warning on his shoulder.

Chuck didn’t notice Sam’s anger, still looking at them both with a slack jaw. “You’re _nephilim._ ”

Sam stiffened, and but Dean just met Chuck’s stare, swallowing. “Yeah. And for your sake, I hope you were smart enough to keep it to yourself.”

Chuck blinked in surprise, his face a mixture of horror and amazement. _“Holy crap.”_

Dean couldn’t have said it better himself.

* * *

 Dean was ready to haul ass. Fuck this. Fuck _all_ of this. First, their lives get turned into some sappy drama series by a psychic douche in a bathrobe, then said douche tells them that _Lilith_ is on the way, and ready to canoodle Sam into her evil, apparently grown-up clutches.

And of course, the bridge, the only way out of this dumpy little town, was out.

“Dean, for the first time, we know Lilith is going to be close.”

“So?” Dean grunted, glancing around the diner they’d found themselves in.

“So…” Dean was amazed at how much exasperation Sam could fit into a single word. “We’ve got the jump on her. If we know when she’s coming, we have an opportunity.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Dean’s head. “Are you – ” Dean cut himself off from yelling, struggling to keep his voice lower. “It frustrates me when you say such reckless things. If anything, we need to call Cas.”

In fact, saying it aloud, Dean was absolutely certain that was the right thing to do. Sam didn’t seem to think so.

“ _No_ ,” Sam said, his voice dangerously low. “If you call Cas, he’ll just send us away somewhere!”

“Exactly!” Dan hissed. “Dude, this is _Lilith_. We couldn't get the jump on her last time, and the angels are all chomping at the bit to get her. We should just let them know, and get the hell out of their way.”

“What if she doesn’t show? What if she goes back underground because we’re not here?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Then she doesn’t show!”

“Dean, _please_ ,” Sam’s voice was suddenly soft. “Lilith…Lilith _killed you_. I had to watch her tear you apart. I need…I can’t let the angels sit me out of this. We can take her, or trap her at least. If Cas sends us away, then she won’t come here, and then she’ll be at large for who knows how long.”

Dean could feel a twitch starting in his eye. There was absolutely _no doubt_ in his mind that staying in Lilith’s path was bad – _stupid_ , even. But he also understood where Sam was coming from. If Lilith had gotten Sam, Dean knew he’d want to get revenge on her _himself_. He wouldn’t be willing to sit on the sidelines while someone else did the dirty work. And dammit, those eyes were making him feel guilty as hell.

Dean was saved answering by the waitress. “Cobb salad for you, and tofu veggie burger for you,” she said, giving Dean an odd look as she set his food down in front of him.

“Thanks,” Dean said lowly as the waitress left. “I just don’t want to jump into something that we’re not ready for,” he said, not looking Sam in the eye. Picking up the sandwich, Dean took a huge bite, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my god. This is delicious, tofu is amazing!”

Suddenly the waitress was back at their table, looking flustered. “I’m so sorry, I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake!” she said, taking the plate from Dean.

Dean’s stomach plummeted and he scowled at Sam’s raised eyebrows.

“Alright, _fine_. I won’t call Cas. But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to be _smart_ about it!”

* * *

 Chuck was just as twitchy when he showed up at the Toreador motel.

“Guys, guys, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, shifting from foot to foot as Dean painted a devil’s trap on the bottom side of the rug.

“Trust me, I don’t think it’s a good idea either,” Dean muttered.

“I mean, the angels are going to be mad. _So_ mad. You get how utterly obsessed they are with protecting you two, don’t you?”

“We’ll call them if anything starts to go sideways,” Dean said, straightening as he flipped the rug back over with his foot, adjusting it half-heartedly.

“But not a moment before,” Sam said with a serious look directed at Chuck. “I know the angels mean well, but Dean and I need to do this ourselves.”

Chuck didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway.

“You got any idea what we should be expecting?” Dean said, tossing the now empty spray can into the trash.

Chuck shook his head. “I haven’t seen that far yet.”

“Figures,” Dean huffed. “I’m going to grab more salt from the car. We should make extra salt rounds just in case.”

Sam watched Dean go, a weight settling into his stomach as the door shut. He glanced at Chuck out of the corner of his eye. “Uh, was just wondering. How much do you know? About me?”

Chuck glanced at Sam distractedly, his eyes darting back to the door where Dean disappeared. “What do you mean?”

“Have you...seen visions of me? When I’m not with Dean?”

“Oh,” Chuck said, looking more alert. “You want to know if I know about the demon blood.”

“You didn’t tell Dean.” Sam said, keeping his face carefully blank.

“I didn’t even write it into the books I was afraid it would make you look unsympathetic.”

Sam felt a flash of annoyance. “Unsympathetic?”

“Yeah,” Chuck said nervously. “Come on, Sam. I mean, sucking blood? You got to know that’s wrong.”

“It scares the hell out of me,” Sam said breathily, the admission falling from him before he recognized it himself. “I mean, I feel it _inside_ me, I…I wish to god I could stop.”

“But you keep going back.”

He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry and his throat empty and uncomfortable. “What does it matter? I’ve already got demon blood in me, Azazel made sure of that. I’m already…I’m already _wrong_ , so if it can help me kill Lilith and stop the apocalypse, what choice have I got?”

“Sam, you know you’re not…I mean, the blood doesn’t make you…” Chuck stumbled around his words. Shutting his eyes with a frustrated huff, Chuck shook his head. “You’re an _angel_ , Sam. Granted, you’re not a full one yet, but the demon blood hasn’t _tainted_ you.”

Sam looked at Chuck with wide eyes, his head starting to spin. “How…how do you know that?”

Chuck frowned slightly, worry lines sharpening around his eyes as they narrowed, ever so slightly. “I heard the angels talking about it. There’s no demon blood in you at _all_ , Sam. Your grace purified the blood Azazel gave you a long time ago. It’s the same when you take it from Ruby. The demon blood literally can’t exist in your system. Your grace is too strong.”

Sam’s heart was beating quickly, pounding to the tips of his fingers. “Do the angels know I’ve been drinking it?” Sam said urgently.

Chuck was looking even more concerned now, and he took a slow step towards Sam. “No. They don’t have any clue.”

“Good,” Sam said quickly. Too quickly. He sat himself down on the motel bed, his legs feeling shaky. “Good. They don’t need to know. You’re wrong about it, Chuck. You don’t know…I’m weak, without it. It makes me stronger, and I need to be stronger to stop Lilith.”

“The angels don’t want you or Dean getting mixed up with Lilith,” Chuck stepped closer again, his voice free of the nervous energy it had previously held.

“The angel’s can’t tell me what to do!” Sam grit out, turning to glare straight up at Chuck.

There was the strangest mixture of fear and awe in Chuck’s face, and Sam was confused at the distant look that had come over him. “God, you really are a _nephilim_ ,” Chuck mumbled weakly.

What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? Sam didn’t have time to ask as Dean walked back into the room, seemingly oblivious to the tension suddenly filling the air. “I found extra rounds in the trunk, but I still think we should make more.” Dean went set an unopened bag of salt and a few rattling boxes on the table, before turning to face Chuck. “If you still haven’t seen anything, I can take you back to your house.”

Chuck glanced between Sam and Dean, his hands fumbling at his sides. “I – I don’t know. Maybe I ought to stay?”

Sam looked over at Dean, sharing a surprised look between them. “Its okay, really,” Dean said slowly. “There’s no use putting you in harms way just because you’re psychically tuned into the Winchester horror hour.”

“Maybe, maybe I could help?” Chuck said, his tone more like a statement than a question.

Now Dean’s eyes were raised, and Sam sympathized. Where the hell had the panicky man from before suddenly gone? “Uh, I appreciate the offer, Chuck, really I do. But, no offence man, I don’t think a newly discovered psychic is going to be much help against _Lilith_. Its better if me and Sammy handle it on our own.”

Any amount of determination Chuck had previously held vanished quickly. “Right. You’re right, of course. Yeah, I’ll just – just go to your car.”

Chuck shuffled out of the room past Dean, glancing back over his shoulder at them both, looking unsure. Dean met Sam’s eyes incredulously, mouthing _‘What the hell?’_

Sam shrugged his shoulders, looking away. The implications from his conversation with Chuck battering his mind too much to focus.

Dean left the room calling some bullshit warning for Sam to ‘stay safe from strangers’ before going back to the car with Chuck.

Sam hardly noticed Dean’s absence. The dry feeling in his throat was more prominent now. Chuck was wrong. He had to be. The blood did something to him, made him more powerful. It just _had to_.

Rubbing his hands over his face anxiously, Sam let himself fall back onto the bed, trying to ignore the desperation crawling through his skin. 

_He needed Ruby._

* * *

 Dean pulled back into the motel parking lot, and noticed with a sinking stomach that the letters in the “Toredor’s” sign had gone out, leaving only “Red Motel” in its place. Just like Chuck’s damn manuscript.

“Shit,” Dean cursed to himself. He pulled into a parking space in front of their room and got out of the car, shotgun held close. The lights were off in their room, and Dean had a bad feeling chewing on his heels. He went up to the door and knocked, listening hard for sounds inside the room. 

After a few moments of complete silence, Sam opened the door, and Dean stepped gratefully inside.

“Anything yet?” Dean mumbled, pushing the door shut securely behind him.

“You tell me.”

Both brothers twisted around towards the distinctly female voice. A young, blond woman stood in the corner of the motel room, looking poised and deadly. She smiled, and Dean felt a shiver run over his body.

“Lilith,” he breathed. She wasn’t near any of the devil’s traps they’d hidden, and the salt gun was on the table, far out of reach. Dean felt frozen in place. A feeling that Sam apparently didn’t share.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Sam said, stepping towards her, his posture confident, but Dean could see that his hands were shaking.

Lilith’s smile widened and she tilted her head at Sam. “You really think that you’re a match for me, don’t you?” she said lightly. “That’s _adorable_.”

Feeling anger writhing up in his stomach, Dean got in front of Sam. Or at least he tried to. Lilith raised her arm the moment Dean moved, and in an instant he was slammed up against the opposite wall, pined completely.

“No no,” she simpered. “I think you need another time-out. And I’ll be sure that its permanent, this time. One half-angel abomination is _more_ than enough for me to deal with.”

Dean felt his whole world grinding to a halt. What…how did Lilith know? She knew they were nephilim. She…

Dean watched helplessly as Lilith sauntered towards Sam, who somehow managed to look pissed off and terrified at the same time.

“Did you really think you could keep it a secret forever?” she said, slowly circling around Sam, her eyes looking greedily up and down his body. “That you’re even more of a freak than what Azazel made you? It even makes sense. You’ve always been such an immature little brat. Who would have thought that you were an _actual_ ankle biter? A real live nephilim for my master. Absolutely ridiculous.”

Sam lunged at her suddenly, drawing the demon blade and ramming it towards her stomach in one, desperate move. But with of flick of her wrist, the blade flew from Sam’s hand, and Sam sunk to his knees, his arms pinned to his sides.

“Play time is _over_ , Sammy.” Sam’s entire body was almost vibrating, but his face was still twisted with rage as Lilith moved to stand directly in front of him. “Do you know how hard we tried to get our hands on a nephilim the first time angel’s started spitting them out? But the stupid little things kept dying before we could snatch them. That, or they’d have enough self preservation to call mommy or daddy to smite the big bad demon, only to get themselves killed by something else.”

“But you,” Lilith brought her hand to Sam’s forehead, flicking her fingers through his hair and causing him to twitch violently. “ _You_ walked straight into hell’s welcome party. Repeatedly. You’re dependent on it now, Sam. Have you realized it yet? Ruby may be dead, but she did a damn good job of securing that leash on tight for Lucifer. And until he’s freed, I am more than happy to take up the reigns _myself_.”

Lilith turned away from Sam and focused again on Dean. “And I’ll _really_ enjoy sending you back to hell, Dean. Its so interesting to know that even a nephilim can crack under enough pressure. I’m sure Alastair will _love_ testing your limits know that he knows your true potential.”

Dean's stomach lurched, his brain short circuting at the mention of Alastair's name. This was it. He'd failed Sam,  _again_. Oh, _god. They should have called Castiel._

As Lilith started towards Dean, several things happened, so fast that Dean almost couldn’t keep up.

The motel door burst open, revealing the skittish psychic. “I am the prophet Chuc – _ghh!”_ Chuck started to yell, but Castiel was sweeping into the room before he could finish, knocking Chuck roughly aside. He held his long silver blade in one hand, and his other was outstretched towards Lilith. The demon was forced to slide back a few feet, but no more than that as her eyes flashed white, and she snarled at Castiel.

Lilith leapt towards Sam, reaching out to grab him, but her hand met the end of Uriel’s blade instead. The angel had appeared out of nowhere, but he didn’t hesitate to lift Sam up with one arm as Lilith jerked back from him, clutching her hand desperately.

With Uriel on Sam, Castiel stood between Lilith and Dean, blocking some of Dean’s view. But Lilith only screamed, and suddenly smoke began billowing from her open mouth. The demon smoke swirled into the air, letting the empty meatsuit fall limply to the floor, but instead of escaping out of the room, the smoke rushed towards Sam.

Uriel vanished with Sam on his hip, and Dean felt Castiel grab the front of his shirt, pulling him off the wall and into the angel's arms as smoke-Lilith turned to rush at them, her howl ringing sharply through the room.

Dean screwed his eyes shut, but instantly there was an intense shift, and Dean blinked his eyes open in surprise to see Bobby’s living room, no trace of Lilith or any other demon. He wasn’t sure when he was moved, but Dean found himself planted securely in Castiel’s lap on the window seat, arms wrapped tightly around him like metal bars.

He immediately caught sight of Sam in Uriel’s lap on the couch opposite of him. He was thrashing against Uriel, his fingers scratching and pulling at the hands holding him around his waist, but Uriel hardly seemed bothered.

Dean just stared in shock. He could feel his heart beating almost outside of his chest, pumping harshly down, even to his fingertips. His hands were gripping the arms holding him, but Dean didn’t know if he wanted to rip them away like Sam obviously did. He could hear Uriel’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. The fear from the last few minutes, from watching Sam nearly being taken away, from almost being returned to _Alastair_ , was still choking him, forcing him to sit rigid and still in Castiel’s grip.

Then, Castiel’s voice was whispering in his ear, and the words slowly started to take on meaning.

“…thought we had lost you. Come back to me, Dean. You must stay with me.”

Dean let out a sound that was embarrassingly close to a whimper, and he felt Castiel attempt to draw him even closer. But Dean was rigid, and he didn’t know if he wanted to be sitting on Castiel’s lap. He didn’t want the comfort that Castiel’s embrace offered, not after everything he’d heard, not after Lilith revealed that she and all the other big hitters knew that he and Sam were _nephilim_. He gave a half attempt of pushing out of the angel’s lap, but there was no budge from Castiel, and Dean didn’t even know if he was glad or angry at the angel’s manhandling.

“What’s happened?”

Dean’s head snapped around at the harsh voice, nearly freezing all over again. A man that he’d never seen before stood in the middle of the room. His form was round, his head balding, but his posture screamed powerful, pissed-off angel.

“It was Lilith,” Castiel said immediately, his arms still holding Dean down firmly in his lap. “She discovered their location. She was attempting to kill Dean and take Sam.”

The strange angel’s eyes seemed to dance with rage. “And did you kill her?”

“She got away!” Uriel snarled, completely unaffected by Sam’s constant pushing to get out of his grasp. “The bitch wasn’t expecting us, but she slipped away as we protected them!”

Dean had never thought that an angel could turn red from anger. The stranger took a deep breath, the room trembling around him. “That’s it,” he said, and his voice was shockingly calm. “I won’t stand for this any longer.”

The angel walked over to Sam, whose struggles doubled in Uriel’s lap. Two fingers touched his forehead, Sam’s eyes widened briefly, and suddenly he went completely limp, falling unconscious.

“Sam!” Dean surged forwards, trying to break away from Castiel, but his grip only tightened.

The new angel was walking towards him now, his hand outstretched.

“Wait!” Dean cried desperately. “Who are you? What did you do to my brother?!”

The angry look on the angel’s face crumbled away, leaving a fond sort of smile in the creases of his eyes. “Sleep now, child,” he said gently. “You and Sam will be safe when you wake.” 

“No, don’t - !” Dean tried to twist away, but it was too late. The angel’s fingers pressed against his forehead, and a chill washed over his entire body. Dean felt himself folding back into the warmth of Castiel’s frame, the familiar sense of grace enveloping him, and the world faded to black behind eyelids that refused to open again.

* * *

 

The room seemed oddly silent without Sam and Dean’s flailing about. Zachariah took a moment to observe them in their physical form, the gentle rise and fall of their chests as they pulled in oxygen that was still so infuriatingly necessary for their survival.

Castiel had quickly shifted Dean so that his head wouldn’t fall to his chest, and instead held him firmly against his vessel’s neck. Zachariah sighed deeply.

“I can’t allow this to continue,” he said, feeling Uriel’s eyes on him. “They’ve become too much of a target. Hell _knows_ what they are, and I can no longer justify leaving them so unguarded to Michael.”

Zachariah turned to Castiel, noting the way that Dean had curled into the seraph unconsciously. “They must be moved. Castiel, are you ready to provide for their needs? Are they ready?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded to Zachariah. “They won’t be happy,” he said bluntly. “But I do believe they trust me enough to know that I will keep them safe, that they won’t be in any danger. Though it will be a challenge to get them to accept us. They are both very stubborn.”

Uriel gave a half fond, half sarcastic laugh. “Stubborn is an understatement, brother.”

“We’ll help them adjust in every way that we can,” Zachariah said, catching sight of the junk cars sitting off into the distance out of the living room windows. “I’ll make arrangements for their car. They’re both rather fond of it, aren’t they?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he walked back towards Sam and Uriel. Zachariah brushed away the fringes of hair from the young nephilim’s face, erasing the evidence of his earlier struggling. “The house is ready, filled with anything they might need for now, and as their grace grows additions can be easily made.”

“And what of Lilith?” Uriel said, voice hard again.

“She has failed to break many of the seals. She’s running out of places to hide, and it is only a matter of time before Michael closes in on her.” Zachariah tilted his head back a bit, a smile stretching his vessel’s face. “Then we can all focus on the nephilim. Michael will be pleased to meet them.”

Sam groaned slightly in his sleep and pushed uselessly against Uriel, his face drawn slightly in an almost pouting frown. The site made Zachariah chuckle fondly.

“We’ll have our work cut out for us with these two.” Zachariah turned back to Castiel, and nodded. “Lets take them home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lilith gave me so much trouble. But I finally have it where I'm satisfied! Next time... next time will be fun.
> 
> feel free to come and find me on tumblr if you want! 
> 
> maaahksheppard.tumblr.com


	15. Home?

When consciousness began to pull Dean back into the waking world, the first thing he felt was a head cushioned against his chest, and his arm trapped around a pair of wide shoulders. He opened his eyes drowsily to see long brown trusses fanning out across his chest. Dean allowed his eyes to slip shut again, blocking out the sun’s rays that were much too bright. Just Sammy.

It was a familiar position from younger days, when Sam often slept in the same bed as Dean. Either because Dad was occupying the other bed, or when there was no other excuse, because it just _felt_ safer. If Sam was close to Dean, it meant that Sam wasn’t in any danger, and neither was Dean. Before, when Mom’s death had still been fresh, when it wasn’t hard to recall the sound of her voice whispering stories, sleeping like this brought a deeper connection that Dean could never quite understand. A warmth in his chest, resonating at the closeness of his little brother.

But that closeness had been lost and almost forgotten as Sam and Dean repressed their mixed heritage, and only now that they were wrapped together like they hadn’t been in many years, Dean could feel the smallest traces of that warmth tugging at him gently.

He lay there for a while more, listening contently to the sounds of Sam’s steady breathing and an occasional sucking sound. But the second sound wasn’t one that Dean recognized. The longer he heard it, the more it bothered him. The more their whole position bothered him. Why were he and Sammy sharing a bed? Hadn’t they gotten two queens at the Toreador motel?

Dean opened his eyes again, using his free hand to wipe away sleep. He pushed himself up on his elbow slightly and looked down at his brother.

That strange sound was coming from Sam, a pacifier planted firmly between his lips. Dean blinked. He glanced up only to see bars surrounding the bed, lined with pillows and smiling plush toys. Dean wiped furiously at his eyes and looked again.

Yes, Sam was still sucking on a pacifier, and yes, he and Dean were lying in a giant _crib_.

“What the hell?” Dean looked past the white bars into the room beyond. Animal motifs covered the wall in a light green color scheme. The floor was mostly covered with a fuzzy white carpet, littered with train sets, dolls, toy cars, and an entire array of different toys and games. There was a large plush rocking chair and a white dresser, sitting next to a table with what looked like padding on the top.

This was weird, even for the Winchesters.

“Sam!” Dean hissed, grabbing at Sam’s shoulder. But when he moved his arm, he saw another pacifier tumble across his chest, dangling by a ribbon that was clipped onto his t-shirt. “Shit!” he muttered in surprise, jerking unsuccessfully away as if the pacifier would burn him. “Sam! Wake up!”

At Dean’s raised voice, Sam’s head shot up off his brother’s chest, a bleary “Muh?” dislodging the pacifier from his mouth, leaving a trail of spit behind.

“Oh gross!” Dean shoved Sam off him, rolling him onto the mattress as he sat upright and looked down at the wet spot on his shirt. “Why’d you have to _drool_ on me!”

But Sam wasn’t listening as he started noticing the room around them. Pushing himself up, Sam was closer to the wall than Dean, and looked out past his brother. “Dean, where the hell are we?”

Dean looked back out at the room, brushing at his shirt absently. “No clue.” Dean kicked off the blanket that was covering his legs and pushed himself up to his knees on the mattress. Looking down at the feeling of cool air on his legs, Dean saw that he was wearing shorts. Not the boxers he was used to, the material was too thick. They were soft and looked like they had an elastic waistband, and were generally much too short for anything that Dean would have picked out himself. Scoffing lightly to himself, Dean reached up to the top of the bars, shuffling over to the corner of the crib to see if he could let the bars down. “Sam, get the other side. See if you can figure out how to open this damn thing.”

Sam scrambled up to the other front corner, his fingers working at the edges of the bed, and with a quick glance, Dean saw that Sam was wearing the same style of shorts that he was. Seriously, what was it with kidnappers always putting them in weird getups?

Dean fumbled with the lock, grunting in frustration when he couldn’t figure out how to get the bars to move, when the door opened without warning, and two people stepped inside.

It was the man that had appeared in Bobby’s living room, followed closely by Castiel. Suddenly the memories from the past few days hit Dean. The Supernatural books, the author Chuck, _Lilith_ …

The tall angel waved his hand with a smile, and the wooden bars in front of Dean began to lower. “Its good to see you boys awake,” the angel said jovially. “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

Dean was wary of this new angel, the way he’d knocked both Sam and him out without any trouble. But Sam was already clambering out of the bed, and Dean hurried up to stand in front of him.

“Who are you?” Dean said, not even allowing his eyes to flicker over towards Castiel as he put himself between the new angel and a fidgeting Sam. “Where the hell are we?”

The angel raised both his hands in the air in an almost surrendering gesture. “I mean you and Sam no harm. My name is Zachariah, and I serve under Michael.”

“Real charmed, I’m sure,” Dean said flatly. “Where are we? What did you to us?”

The angel, Zachariah, sighed, but his smile only grew. “You are safe. I put you and your brother to sleep to make the transition easier. You’re home, now.”

Dean’s stomach did a flip, and Sam noticeably froze behind him. “ _Home_?” he said, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice.

“Yes, _home_ ,” he stressed the word, as if Dean had never heard it before. “We’ve been building it since the moment we found you.”

“Yeah well…” Dean said, trying to sound a lot more confident than he felt. “Thanks a lot for the offer, but we’re going to have to pass.”

Zachariah’s smile faltered a bit. He walked over to the window, and Dean followed him with his eyes. “There’s an enormous yard,” he said, still in that light, almost excited tone, “for you to enjoy nature. There are entertainment systems and games to keep you amused. There’s a kitchen that will always be fully stocked. You’ve seen your new room,” Zachariah stepped away from the window and towards them, pointing to the crib. “And you have a bed that’s all your own, something you could never have switching through motel rooms. We’ll keep you fed and clothed, clean and healthy, and,” Zachariah stood directly in from of Dean now, placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Safe. Finally, you boys will be safe.”

“I don’t think you heard me,” Dean said lowly, shrugging off the hand. “I said no thanks.”

The angel straightened, his eyes pitying. “I’m sorry Dean, but I’m afraid this isn’t up for discussion. You and your brother must stay here.”

Dean could feel his breath catch. He turned to look at Castiel, but Cas wasn’t jumping up to Dean’s aid. He was looking back at Dean, his eyes serious and concerned.

“You can’t stop us from leaving,” Sam blurted out, nearly making Dean flinch. “You can’t – ”

“I’m afraid I can,” Zachariah cut Sam off, all of the cheery optimism gone from his voice. “I’m sorry boys,” he said slowly. “I know this isn’t ideal. We’d have much preferred to introduce you to the idea of this house slowly, but circumstances being what they are…” he sighed, looking between Sam and Dean. “Lilith is looking for you. _Both_ of you. And letting you have run of the earth is just too dangerous. This is for your protection.”

“We’ve lived our whole lives taking care of _ourselves,_ ” Sam argued, his voice biting.

“Which you never should have had to do,” Zachariah said patiently, which only served to make Sam angrier.

“We don’t need your protection!”

“Yes, you do.” 

Sam’s face was red, his hands clenched into fists that shook noticeably at his sides. “Screw you.”

If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say that Zachariah winced at Sam’s outburst. The angel took a step back towards the door. “I know you’re upset, I wish it didn’t have to be this way. But we just want you boys to be _safe_ , it would destroy your father if he lost you.”

A chill washed over Dean, but the angel didn’t seem to notice as he turned towards the door.

“You must want some space…time to think it all over. I’ll leave you boys be, but I hope you’ll consider eating at least. Castiel will make you something.”

With that, the angel Zachariah disappeared, and Dean was left at a complete loss for words.

Sam didn’t seem to share the same problem.

“Cas, what the hell?” he said, rounding on the angel. “Dean and I have a job to do!”

Castiel met Sam’s anger calmly. “Sam, I know that this will be a difficult adjustment, but – ”

“We’re not staying here!” Sam said loudly, cutting the angel off. “You can’t do that. Who gave you the right to tell us what to do?”

“I am your uncle,” Castiel said firmly, and Dean felt his stomach give an odd swoop. “And it is my job to make sure you boys are safe.”

“Cas, this is some serious bullshit, and you know it,” Dean said, trying his best to sound level headed. But the slight frown Castiel gave in return wasn’t helping.

“Whether or not you realize it, you’re vulnerable to Lilith. She will stop at nothing to get at the both of you, and this is the only place in existence that you will be completely safe.”

“So what, we’re just supposed to sit here under house arrest?” Dean said incredulously.

“This isn’t a punishment,” Castiel said, his voice soft. “I want to do everything in my power to make you boys happy, but this house is the safest place for you until your grace has finished growing.”

“Cas – ” Sam started again, but Castiel raised a hand.

“I won’t argue with you,” Castiel turned away from Sam, moving towards the door. “I’m preparing food in the kitchen, I’m sure you’re both hungry by now.” Castiel paused in the doorway, looking back at Sam and Dean with a small sad sigh. “I know this won’t be easy for you, but please, give me a chance to show you how happy you could be here.”

Castiel didn’t wait for Sam or Dean to respond. He disappeared through the doorway, leaving them standing in the pseudo nursery.

“What the hell!” Sam growled, the moment they were alone.

“I don’t even know,” Dean said, kicking aside a stuffed animal that was too close to his foot. “This whole thing is seriously whacked.” Dean walked over to the window, carefully avoiding all toys, as if they might leap up and grab him. Gazing out the window, Dean felt his heart sink a little.

Outside the window was a field. It was flat close to the house, but small hills were rolling higher and higher the farther out Dean looked. Dean saw the sun glinting off a small lake in the distance, but trees, _huge_ trees, trees that were wider than his car, were blocking Dean from seeing too far.

“Can you tell where we are?” Sam said, coming up behind him.

“All I’m seeing is a whole lot of _nothing_ ,” Dean stood aside so Sam could get a look. “God, would you look at this place? You’d think we were toddlers or something.”

“Maybe the angels finally realized how immature you are,” Sam said, craning his neck to look around outside.

“Ha ha,” Dean said dryly, looking down at his clothes. There was a reason he didn’t wear shorts if he could help it. It made him _feel_ like a toddler. Not to mention the pacifier that was still dangling from his chest. Dean felt like he was in a bad movie, with the obvious crib and toys everywhere, and was that…was that a changing table?

Dean grabbed the waistband of his shorts and looked down as his underwear, or rather, the plastic-looking _thing_ where his underwear should be.

“This is too much!” Dean scowled. “They really think we’re little kids!”

“So how are we going to get out of here?” Sam’s voice sounded irritated. “I don’t see any other buildings. We could be anywhere.”

“Lets check out the rest of the house,” said distractedly, ripping the pacifier clip off his shirt and chucking it across the room. “We can see if there’s anything at the front, and we can figure out what to do.”

Sam grimaced but nodded, taking the pacifier off his shirt and tossing it in the same direction.

* * *

 

The house was a lot bigger than Dean had been expecting.

As Sam and Dean crept down the hallway, trying to be as silent as possible, Dean let his fingers trail along the white molding trimmed in gold that covered the walls. The floors were a rich, dark wood, and paintings of smiling angels hung every few feet in big, ornate frames. When they reached the stairs, Dean rolled his eyes at the large chandelier hanging over the rounded staircase.

There were noises coming from somewhere downstairs, and with a shrug at Sam, Dean started down, taking in everything that he could. At the bottom of the stairs, Sam was close behind him as he peered around a corner, and saw what must be the kitchen. Castiel was standing at the counter, doing something that Dean couldn’t see, his back turned to them. Dean pushed Sam in the opposite direction.

“We’re not getting out that way,” Dean said in a hushed tone.

The doorway on the other side led them into a foyer. There was a large front door, decorated from top to bottom with delicate looking carvings, and windows taller than either of them.

Dean let out a soft whistle. “Man, this place is real cushy. I wouldn’t mind staying in a place like this.”

 _“Dean!”_ Sam hissed into Dean’s ear, his anger perfectly conveyed in one annoyed syllable. “We are _not_ staying here!”

“Just cool it, okay Sam?” Dean shot back as quietly as he could manage, fully aware that Castiel was still very close by.

“Don’t tell me to ‘cool it!’ We need to leave _right now!”_

“I’m thinking!” Dean shoved Sam back a little, glancing around the room when something very familiar and welcome caught his eye, gleaming in the afternoon sun. “Bingo,” Dean said, pointing out the window. “Looks like they kidnapped Baby too.”

Sam only grimaced. “Do you have the keys?”

“I’m wearing cotton shorts, what do you think?”

With a short growl, Sam shoved past Dean, walking up to the shelves on the wall next to the door, and Dean followed him, looking back over his shoulder for any signs of approaching angles. Sam started pilfering through the shelf, and sure enough, a simple and familiar key ring rested innocently.

“Lets go,” Sam said shortly, pushing the keys into Dean’s hands and wrenching open the front door.

Dean’s heart was pumping as he stayed on Sam’s heels, half jogging towards the impala to keep up with Sam’s pace. He almost expected to have Uriel or Castiel grab him from behind as he reached the car door. But no one came as Sam slammed his door shut, or even when Dean started the car and peeled out backwards onto the small little road in front of the house. He had his hand on the gearshift, but something made him pause, his blood feeling like it was freezing beneath his skin.

 _“Dean GO!_ ”

Dean threw the car into drive at Sam’s yell, and pressed the petal to the floor, shooting the car down the shady road, trees stretching for as far as the eye could see.

Neither boy saw Castiel staring after them out of a window. He gave a small sigh, his eyes tinted with the slightest hint of worry. But he didn’t move, only giving a fond shake of his head.

* * *

 

It took Dean an hour to start getting worried.

The road was dead straight, and there’d been no other cars, so Dean was pushing the Impala almost as fast as she could go. And yet there hadn’t been a single sign of civilization anywhere.

No buildings, no road signs, no power lines, and with the sun quickly sinking below the horizon, Dean was just hoping to see a light in the distance at this point. He had no idea where the hell he and Sammy were.

After two hours, his worry was starting to turn into panic.

Sam was putting him on edge. He’d been getting more and more agitated the longer they were on the road. He was shifting constantly, his fingers alternating between rubbing at his head and across his lips.

Three hours in, Dean could tell that there was something seriously wrong with this. Something wrong with _Sam_.

The kid’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hands were trembling now. He kept blinking harshly, and sweat was beading on his forehead. But he didn’t make a sound, sitting almost eerily silent in the car.

Finally, Dean couldn’t take the quiet any longer. “Sam, you okay?” Dean said.

Sam didn’t answer, his eyes glued on the road, but he gave a harsh sort of jerk of his head. It wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“Dude, you look like shit.”

Sam’s face twitched into a scowl, a dry, almost inhuman sounding grunt forcing its way out of his throat.

Dean swallowed thickly. What was he supposed to do? Something was clearly happening to Sam, something bad. But they were in the middle of some road, god knows where, without a cellphone. Right now, Dean’s options were to pull over, or keep driving. “Sam…Sammy, talk to me man. Seriously, tell me what’s wrong.”

Sam suddenly sat up straight, his eyes focused. “There’s a light,” he said, his throat sounding raw.

Dean looked up back at the road, and sure enough, off in the distance was the tiniest pinprick of light, dimly lit between the trees. Dean sped up the car, desperate for something, _anything_ beyond the empty road.

The light was growing quickly, just as the stars started to pop up overhead. But as soon as the source of that light came into view, Dean felt his mouth go completely dry.

It was the house, the one the angels had built. The house they’d left behind _hours_ ago, driving break-neck speeds on a road that never curved. How was that even possible?

Sam’s body was rigid in his seat, his eyes wide as they drew nearer. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

The house was warmly lit, it might have even looked inviting. Not knowing what else to do, but knowing that they couldn’t stay on the road any longer, Dean slowed down, and pulled into the driveway. The car wasn’t even fully stopped when Sam wrenched open his door and jumped out, storming towards the house.

“Sam!” Dean called after him uselessly. He turned off the car as quickly as he could and raced after Sam, closely following him as he burst through the front door of the house.

Castiel was standing in the doorway to the front hall, looking around with a slightly furrowed brow, clearly in mid conversation with Uriel who was standing a few feet behind him.

“Where the hell are we?” Sam snarled, his shoulders hunched. “We drove straight – _completely_ straight _–_ for _hours_. But without turning, not once, we end up right where we started?”

Castiel glanced between Sam and Dean quickly, but his eyes focused on Sam, a small frown turning down the corners of his mouth. “The road will carry you for as long as you want to go, but it will always lead you here when its time to return home."

"This isn't _home_!" Sam said, his chest heaving. ""I need - I can't feel..." Sam choked to a stop, and he rolled his head. When he opened his eyes, they looked like fire. "Where _are we?"_

Castiel looked intently at Sam, his gaze searching. "We’re no longer on earth," he said slowly, "not really. This is a pocked dimension, only accessible to angels. No monster or demon can reach us here."

Something in Sam snapped.

With a crash, Sam sunk his fist through the wall next to Castiel. Dean jumped horribly, but Uriel stayed completely silent, and Castiel never moved. Sam pulled his fist out of the hole he’d made, his knuckles white and red with drywall and his own blood. Castiel looked at Sam’s shaking fist, his eyes wide with alarm, concern plainly written across his face.

“Let me _out_ ,” Sam hissed, and Dean almost felt compelled to take a step back from him. He’d never seen Sam this angry before, not through any of the fights with their Dad, not when facing monster or demons. There was something wild about Sam…something really _really_ _wrong_.

“Sam,” Castiel said, his voice tined with worry, his hand reaching up, but Sam jerked away, crashing his side into a table against the wall.

“Don’t – ” Sam snapped, stumbling to keep his balance, “ _touch_ me! Don’t touch me! Let me out!”

“Sammy, calm down!” Dean said, stepping forwards to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Dean, don’t!” Castiel said sharply, but it was too late.

Without warning, Sam hurled the table at Dean, catching him in his middle, and sending him crashing back, his head colliding painfully with the wall.

In an instant, Uriel was behind Dean, pulling him away from Sam, who had already picked up a splintered piece of wood, and was screaming at the top of his lungs, “ _Let me OUT!”_

Dean was already seeing stars, his vision partially obscured by black dots, and he stumbled where Uriel tried to drag him, unable to keep himself upright.

“ _LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!”_

“Uriel! Get Michael!” Castiel yelled over Sam’s roars.

Dean felt himself sink down to the floor, even as he struggled to get up, and then Uriel was gone.

Sam was blundering around, swearing and screaming, throwing anything he could get his hands on. Castiel was standing between Sam and Dean, yelling something that Dean couldn’t make out through the haze swamping his head. There was blood everywhere, flowing freely from cuts on Sam’s hands from the debris, and Dean tried to get up again, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

But before he could do more that sit up, the front door to the house burst open.

A tall man with dark hair swept inside, and wasted no time in grabbing Sam from behind. Sam started to struggle immediately as he was hoisted into the air, his voice growing even louder as he writhed against the arms pinning him down. The man began walking with Sam in his arms, clutching him close to his chest as he moved towards Dean.

For a moment, the man’s eyes met Dean’s. Light and dark at the same time, wide with tension and fervor, and Dean felt his heart leap at the amount of _power_ in his eyes. Dean blinked, and the man had passed him, moving with purpose down the hall towards an open door that Dean hadn’t noticed before.

“Sam!” Dean called out, trying to push himself up after them, but his sudden movements caused a wave of dizziness that sent Dean crashing back down to the floor, the world slowly dimming around him. “Sammy…”

The last thing he saw was the door snapping shut, his brother vanishing from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a lifetime and a half, but here's the newest chapter! By the way, if you're interested, I've been saving up for a while to commission an art piece for Nephilim. Its at the beginning of the first chapter! Please go check it out, and give the artist aviator116 on tumblr lots of love!
> 
> (also holy moly... 3000 kudos?! You guys are seriously so kind <3 thank you from the bottom of my heart!)


	16. Withdraw

Dean was vaguely aware of the world swaying around him.

His head hurt, pounding incessantly in his ears, and muffling the worried voices he could hear above him. He needed to help Sam…he couldn’t think of why, but he knew that Sam needed him. But…he couldn’t move, something wrapped tightly around his arms and legs kept him held in tight as he was moved, like he was being carried.

Then there was something soft beneath him, cool on his skin as a hand ran through his hair. He reached out, and his hand closed around a wrist. The voice was slightly louder now, but still Dean couldn’t make out the words, couldn’t open his eyes. Then there was a warm sweeping sensation, the one Dean now associated with Castiel’s grace, and the pain in his head vanished.

Dean felt himself falling asleep, his hand going slack and unable to fight it.

* * *

 

There was no telling how long Dean had slept. He woke up alone, once again wrapped in blankets and surrounded by bars. It only took him a few moments to gain his bearings before he was scrambling over the side of the crib and crossing the room, wrenching open the door before racing down the circular staircase.

Before he was even halfway down, Castiel came into the foyer, his brow furrowed. “Dean,” he started, but Dean cut him off.

“Where is Sam?” he demanded, coming to a stop in front of the angel.

Castiel said nothing, but his eyes glanced behind him, and Dean turned to see a door, the one he’d seen Sam disappear behind. Without even stopping to think, Dean raced to the door, ignoring Castiel calling after him. He tried the handle but the door was locked. Dean tried forcing it, pushing against the white wood, and ramming into a few times with his shoulder. But nothing worked, and the door wouldn’t give.

“Dean! That’s enough!”

Dean whirled around to face Castiel, anger rolling through his stomach. “Open the door.”

Castiel said nothing, his face impassive as his eyes stared Dean down, equal parts sad and hard. It made his blood boil, and Dean felt his temper flare at how utterly calm the angel was.

Dean turned away and rammed his shoulder into the door again.

“Dean!” This time, Castiel grabbed hold of Dean by his upper arm, preventing him from running into the door again. “Stop this, the door won’t open. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

“What’s wrong with my brother,” Dean snarled, trying and failing to wrench his arm free from Castiel’s grip. “What did you do to him?”

Castiel pulled Dean away from the door as easily as if Dean wasn’t struggling at all, and took hold of Dean’s other arm. “I promise you, Dean, we’ve done nothing to hurt your brother. Sam…Sam is going to be fine.”

Dean grit his teeth and he could feel his lip starting to curl as his heat skipped a beat. “What happened,” Dean said slowly unable to keep the tremor from his voice, “to Sam.”

Castiel’s grip on Dean’s arms tightened ever so slightly, and Dean recognized the pity in the angel’s eyes. “I’ll explain what we know. Just…” Castiel sighed as he started pulling Dean away from the door. “Just come with me. Please.”

Dean wasn’t in the mood to be ordered around, but the fear pounding away in his chest made Dean allow himself to be down the hall. Castiel took him into a sitting room, and sat him down on a large white and gold couch. Dean knew he was glaring still, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he stared expectantly up at Castiel. The angel took a deep breath before he started to speak.

“Last evening, when I saw how Sam’s behavior had been altered, I realized that he had been in contact with demon blood.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “We already knew that. You said that Azazel bled into his mouth the night he killed mom. You said it didn’t matter.”

Castiel shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Even at six months old, Sam’s grace was strong enough to purify the blood from him. I meant that he’s been in contact with it recently.”

Dean’s stomach sank. “What does that mean?”

“The blood of a demon is very powerful,” Castiel began, his face looking weary. “It can cause or amplify the presence of psychic powers in humans, when it’s consumed.”

Deans racing thoughts came crashing to a halt. Sam had been drinking demon blood? _Drinking it?_ Why hadn’t he known, how could he have never noticed?

“Demon blood doesn’t have an affect on angels. Sam’s grace would have purified whatever he was given in no time at all. However, demon blood is also highly addictive, and if it’s consumed over a period of time, it can cause a fierce dependency, or a…a withdraw, if you will. And judging by Sam’s reaction, someone’s been feeding him blood for a very long time. Probably months.”

“Ruby,” Dean breathed, and Castiel nodded.

“We think so, yes.” Castiel said. “We caught her a few weeks ago, just after she’d been with Lilith. Ruby was working for her, and now we think her goal was to get Sam addicted to her blood so that she could control him.”

Dean looked brokenly at Castiel, his stomach rolling as he remembered all the times Sam had snuck off to be with Ruby. “What do we do? How do we fix this?”

“There isn’t much we _can_ do,” Castiel said, his face pinched. “Sam is still very young, he’s tied to his physical body even more so than you are. There’s no demon blood in his system, and there’s nothing to heal him of. His body must work past the dependency on its own.”

Dean’s throat started to close. He shut his eyes, suddenly unable to look at Castiel, and buried his face in his hands. Dean felt the couch dip as Cas sat next to him, and Dean wasn’t sure whether the hand on his shoulder was welcome or not. Everything was just…too fucked up. His brother had an addiction. To _demon blood_. How the hell was he supposed to process that?

“Sam _will_ pull through this,” Castiel said quietly, but still Dean didn’t turn to look at him. “It will be hard on him, I won’t lie to you. But Michael is watching over him. He won’t let Sam hurt himself, and he’ll take care of him until this has passed.”

Dean remembered the man from the night before. He could feel his eyes piercing him, even through the memory. “That was Michael. The archangel _Michael_ ,” Dean said aloud, and he didn’t need Castiel’s confirming nod. “Does that mean – is he my…?”

The word was caught in his throat, so obvious that he didn’t need to say it aloud, and he couldn’t force it out. But Castiel nodded again, in the corner of Dean’s eye, and suddenly Dean didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He pushed himself off the couch and started pacing the room. When the hell had _this_ become his life? Why hadn’t he noticed how damaged Sam had become until it was too late? Was he so wrapped up in his own stupid problems?

“Dean, you must be hungry.”

Dean’s head snapped around to Castiel who was still looking at him with that other worldly intensity. “What?”

“You haven’t eaten at all recently,” the angel said as he got to his feet. “Won’t you let me fix you something to eat?”

Dean could easily see castiel’s words for what they were. A _distraction_. Dean had more questions, questions he wanted answered _yesterday_ , and he certainly didn’t feel like eating. But when Castiel started beckoning him towards what Dean recognized as the kitchen, it was easier to follow along than to protest.

Once they were in the kitchen, Dean could see into the adjoining eating area, where two tall highchairs, complete with lap trays, sat at a dark table, slightly angled to be facing one another.

“No,” Dean said, without hesitation, pointing at the monstrosities. “I am not sitting in that.”

Castiel frowned slightly, but with a slight head tilt, the highchairs were gone, and regular looking chairs replaced them.

Dean sighed, feeling a little bit relieved, and he didn’t argue when Castiel held his seat out for him and pushed him up to the table. Dean looked around at the walls and decorations as Castiel went back into the kitchen. The table had dark wood and embellishments carved into the legs and underside. The walls were again covered with white and gold, with a few more paintings of angels and cherubs smiling out at the room. Dean even thought he recognized a Saint. It was lavish and intricate, but instead of cold it felt warm, even homely. Yet Dean still felt enormously out of place.

Castiel came back into the kitchen after only a brief moment, and when he sat down a tray of food in front of him, Dean’s eyes went wide. There was enough food to feed him for a week. Potatoes and gravy, shining rolls that looked softer than clouds, every type of cooked green Dean had ever _seen_ , and some he couldn’t recognize. A full roasted turkey sat in the center, already sliced and just waiting for him to pick it apart. Dean felt his stomach coil up tightly.

“Does this look good?” Castiel said, sitting down next to Dean. “If you’d prefer something else, I can get you anything you’d like.”

Dean wanted to duck away from the earnest look on Castiel’s face. “No, no it looks great. _Really_ great. I’m just…not feeling all that hungry.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed. “Even so, will you at least give it a try?” he said, sliding the tray a bit closer to Dean. “You need to eat, and once you start you might find that you’re hungrier than you believed.”

They way Castiel said it, no demands in his voice, just lightly pleading, made it all the harder for Dean to say no. So Dean picked up a fork, carefully not meeting Castiel’s eyes, and took a piece of the turkey into his mouth. It was amazing, perfectly flavored and tender, but it settled like a rock in his stomach. But feeling Castiel’s eyes still on him, he speared another piece, this time chewing it slower.

Any other time, Dean would have been over the moon at this sort of meal. A real, home-style dinner, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d had something like this. But there was so _much_ clogging his head, the fact that Sam was out of reach and beyond his help, that his heart just wasn’t in it.

Dean absently reached for the cup to help wash down the food, his throat suddenly feeling very dry, only to see a plastic lid and spout. What the hell?

It took Dean a few moments to realize that it was a sort of sippy cup. Sam had used them in the car for a long time when they were kids. It made Dean remember the nursery upstairs, the crib and toys, the highchair. Dean sat the cup down quickly.

“Cas…what’s the deal with this place, really?” Dean said, and Castiel again tilted his head at him.

“This house is to protect you and Sam, and to provide you both with anything and everything you need.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean…what’s the deal with all this…baby stuff?”

Castiel somehow managed to look even more confused than before. “Everything in this house for you, Dean. Your grace is growing quickly, but you still have human needs. I want to make sure that you boys are taken care of.”

That wasn’t really a satisfying answer either, and the honesty in Castiel’s voice didn’t really give Dean anything to latch onto. “You know, there’s such a thing as overdoing it.”

For some reason, that made Castiel actually smile. “I disagree,” he said simply. “Not when it comes to family.”

And damn it all if Dean could argue with that. That was kind of his whole philosophy. But still, everything was so _extra,_ Castiel was acting like Dean really _needed_ someone to take care of his every need. Maybe Dean could admit that a bit of help from the angels was nice every now and then, especially after a nasty hunt. But Dean certainly didn’t need to be guarded and watched all hours of the day, just like he didn’t need a damn _sippy cup_ to drink from. Dean had an argument on the tip of his tongue when the sound of a scream made him freeze.

It was muffled, so quiet he almost missed it, but Dean would recognize that voice anywhere.

Ignoring Castiel calling after him yet again, Dean pushed up from the table and towards the sound of that voice, his heart pumping as the screams continued. Dean found himself outside the locked door again, and Sam’s voice was carrying from the other side, broken and desperate cries putting every nerve of Dean’s body on edge.

“SAM,” Dean tried forcing the door open again, despite the voice in his head telling him it was useless. He started pounding on the door, desperately trying to reach his little brother, when Castiel once again started pulling him away from the door.

“Stop it!” Dean yelled, uncaring if he hit the angel. “Sam! Let me go, he needs me! _Sam!”_

“You can’t help him Dean,” Castiel’s voice carried over his own ruckus. “Dean, _please_ , you have to listen to me. This won’t help Sam!

Dean’s eyes were burning, the guilt that had been swimming in his stomach all morning sweeping up his body and strangling him as the strength left his body and his struggles started to wane. “Let me see him… _please_ you have to let me help him…”

Castiel forced Dean around so that he was looking the angel in the face. “Sam will be alright Dean, I promised you, remember?”

Something deep within Dean trusted Castiel’s words _,_ but another muffled scream echoed around Dean’s head, making the tightness in his chest get even worse, and _dammit_ _he was not going to cry in front of Castiel_.

“Open the door,” Dean tried to demand, but the tremor in his voice made it sound more like he was pleading.

Castiel’s face looked pained, but he shook his head resolutely. “If I let you see Sam now, he might hurt you without meaning to. We just have to wait, and I _promise_ you that everything will resolve.”

Dean felt something snap. Wait? His brother was suffering, and he was just supposed to wait? _Fine_. He’d wait.

Dean ripped himself away from Castiel’s grip, anger rolling through his stomach hotly as he turned away and sat down on the floor, his back pressed to the wall right next to the door.

“Dean…” he could feel Castiel looking at him, but Dean refused to look at him, instead staring impassively at the wall opposite him. “Aren’t you…don’t you want to finish eating?”

Dean didn’t answer him, ignoring Castiel as much as he could as he tried to listen to whatever was happening in that room. If Castiel wouldn’t open the door, then Dean would wait here until he could see his brother and he _wouldn’t move._ He wasn’t going to abandon his brother, and to _hell_ with Castiel trying to act like nothing was wrong. Dean wasn’t just going to abandon Sam, not when his brother needed him, not when he’d failed him so badly already…

Dean had to strain his ears to hear, but behind the door, Sam’s screams slowly began turning into sobs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am... SO sorry that its been so long since my last update! The truth is, I've been so busy this past semester that I didn't have much time for writing at all. I've been busy with school and work, because I was trying to earn a scholarship from my school and save up enough money so that I could join a study abroad program this summer!
> 
> I wish I could say that I'll update again soon, but I'll be in France for the month of July! I've been busy saving money and getting ready for my trip, which is why this story has taken a temporary position on the back-burner! But once I'm back and settled again, I should get back to semi-frequent updates! 
> 
> But in the meantime, wish me safe travels! Thank you all for being patient with me while life kicks my butt a bit! I promise this story will be completed, I've just had to stall for a bit of time! Thanks so much for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come find me and chat me up on tumblr :)
> 
> maaahksheppard.tumblr.com


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